


Love Through The Angst Pt 1

by Shire55



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, P/C h/c - Freeform, p/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 16:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shire55/pseuds/Shire55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly and Jean-Luc part acrimoniously. Beverly searches for him. Cardassians abound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Through The Angst Pt 1

Love Through the Angst. Beverly Crusher, Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Enterprise was angry. No, actually was furious. For the past month, her best male friend and been making himself scarce. So, she sat alone in the Happy Bottom Riding Club on her own at the table they’d always shared and glared at her plate, muttering to herself, “Well I’ve had it with him and his high-and-mighty attitude. If he can’t afford half-an-hour to spend with me, then sobeit. Damn him anyway, I’ve got better things to do than to be available to his beck-and–call. If he doesn’t want my company, then he can go to hell, I’ve had enough of this.” She angrily stabbed her fork into some, by now, limp lettuce and chewed as it if was rubber. Seeming to have a malevolent aura surrounding her, the other crew members in the lounge left her exclusively alone, and that suited Beverly just fine. Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the ship, sat forlornly in his Ready Room, staring at his sandwich and rapidly cooling Earl Grey tea, hating himself for what he was doing, but seeing no other way to assuage the pain of unrequited love. He had loved Beverly Howard since the day they first met and continued to love her even though she married his best friend, Jack Crusher. The crushing guilt of that love, compounded by the untimely death of Jack only made Jean-Luc loathe himself more, so he spent only a short time on Earth consoling Beverly before he escaped on the Stargazer into deep space. He didn’t reply to her contacts and slowly he put her in the back of his mind. Twenty years on, Jean-Luc finds himself about to take the Captaincy of the Enterprise, the Flag Ship of the fleet. To his dismay he finds that Beverly has been assigned as his CMO. He does his best to block the posting, but ultimately he has to admit she is the best candidate for the job. What starts out as stiff formality soon morphs into a tentative friendship, not the strong connection they shared in the past, but neither of them could deny there was an attraction. Just as Jean-Luc realises he is falling in love with her again, she abruptly leaves the Enterprise to take up tenure as Chief of Starfleet Medical on Earth. Jean-Luc has his suspicions she is running from him, but the overriding feeling is of relief. He misses her sorely, but knows it’s for the best. Then, after a year away, she returns, and, as she steps off the shuttle and their eyes meet, Jean-Luc knows he is still in love with her. Slowly the friendship grows over the ensuing years. They took to sharing breakfast together and, if they could, lunch and dinner was a given if their schedules allowed. At first, Jean-Luc was happy with this arrangement. It meant he could spend quality time with the only woman he had ever truly loved and she seemed to be comfortable with things as they were. With Beverly, Jean-Luc could be himself, dropping the mantle of Command. It liberated him in ways he found hard to describe, he just knew he liked it and wanted more...so much more. Then she became his companion in social diplomatic matters. Dinners, receptions, she was always on his arm and he stood proud and tall knowing he was the envy of most men in the room. He loved her beyond reason and he wanted her desperately...but he couldn’t have her. Once, years ago, they were telepathically linked by an alien race. Beverly discovered Jean-Luc’s love for her and though she tried to hide it, he felt her love for him. Later, when they had been separated, he posed the question. “Should we explore this?” To which she replied, “Perhaps we should be afraid.” He was devastated and very confused. If they loved each other...as he knew they did...why not see where it took them? But, being the altruistic and patient man he was, he put his feelings aside to preserve their precious friendship. Eventually, The Enterprise D was destroyed and a new ship took her place...the Enterprise E. Early in her life her crew encountered the dreaded Borg and Jean-Luc almost lost himself to the ravages of revenge for what they had done to him in the past, but as he recovered there was Beverly, his shoulder to cry upon, his rock and anchor...his universe. But as time travelled inexorably onwards, Jean-Luc’s unreturned love began to cause him significant pain. Too many nights he masturbated, fantasising how it would be to make love to Beverly. What he would do to and for her during foreplay, how she would react to him and finally, how she would look as she came under him. So he slowly began to distance himself from her, making up excuses why he couldn’t meet her for their customary meals and attending the one diplomatic soiree that came up on his own. He knew she was confused and angry, but he could think of nothing else to do, the pain was simply too great. He also knew, but ignored it, that eventually the situation was going to come to a head and, as it would be Beverly who would confront him about it, he simply put it out of his mind. Had he known the storm was about to break over him, perhaps he would have done something to prevent it. True to form, Beverly had had enough. The mercurial red head fumed through the rest of her day before ending her shift and stalking to her quarters. The more she thought about Jean-Luc’s behaviour, the angrier she became. Ultimately the bubble burst. She stormed out of her quarters and hurried to Jean-Luc’s, not bothering to press the chime, but utilising the entry permission Jean-Luc had given her long ago. She found him in his favourite chair, quiet classical music playing as he read a book. He looked up, startled by Beverly’s abrupt entry. Coming to his feet, all he could think to say was, “Beverly.” Striding quickly across the room, she came face to face with her Captain and poked him in the chest. “I want to know what the hell is going on between you and me!” Being so blatantly confronted, the first thing Jean-Luc did was adopt an air of authority. “If you are going to address me in that manner, Doctor, I will put you on report!” By now seething, Beverly hissed, “Fuck the report! You’ve been avoiding me for far too long. First it was breakfast, then dinner, now lunch. What the hell did I do?” She knew him well, in fact she knew him better than anyone else on the ship. Her eyes narrowed and she said with quiet malice, “Or is it you?” For one millisecond, Jean-Luc considered telling her the truth, but remembered confrontations stilled his tongue. Suddenly deflated, Jean-Luc’s head and shoulders slumped. Turning, he sat in his chair and cradled his head in his hands. Her anger subsiding, a more concerned Beverly went to her friend and knelt before him. “What is it, Jean-Luc? Tell me.” He knew this had been coming, but he had no response. All he could do was think of the pain. Abruptly he lifted his head and blurted, “I’m taking an extended leave of absence.” A shocked Beverly rocked back on her heels, mouth agape. “You...taking leave? You don’t take leave, besides, where will you go?” Sighing and striving to keep tears at bay, he summoned a steady voice to say, “I haven’t decided yet.” Standing slowly and taking a seat on the sofa, Beverly rubbed her brow. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been avoiding me for over a month. I confront you about it and you tell me you’re taking an extended leave of absence, but you don’t know where you’re going. Have I got it right?” All he could do was nod, his eyes downcast, unable to meet her piercing gaze. Beverly snorted and shook her head, “I don’t understand.” Finally meeting her eyes, Jean-Luc said quietly, “You don’t have to.” Angry again, Beverly spat, “Listen to who you’re talking to! It’s me, Jean-Luc, Beverly. If you can’t tell me, whom can you tell?” All anger gone, Beverly lifted her hands, imploring Jean-Luc to open up to her as he’d always done in the past. “Jean-Luc, tell me! Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can fix it. Are you unwell?” He laughed almost maniacally inside his head, but all that emerged was a sad smile. “I assure you, Beverly, I’m fine. I just need some time away.” Thinking on the run, Beverly said the first thing that came to mind. It was the worst thing she could have said. “I could go with you. Would that help?” Suddenly angry, Jean-Luc stood and said in clipped tones, “I’m tired, Doctor and I would appreciate it if you would leave. I intend to go to bed.” Confused, perplexed and vaguely guilty, Beverly left, knowing by his tone her best friend would not entertain any further discussion on the matter. She walked slowly back to her quarters and sat on her bed, trying to figure out what was wrong with Jean-Luc. She was a complicated woman, hardened by having to be a single parent to her son. He was now gone, off to explore different planes of existence with an alien guide. His contacts with her were rare and sporadic. She could only hope he was well and happy. In her life there was only Jean-Luc and he too was very complicated. Oh, there had been others, one, Odan, she loved, but that had not worked out for many reasons. But through all her relationships, in the background, there was always Jean-Luc Picard. Solid, dependable...and in love with her. And she loved him, but for reasons she didn’t fully understand, she wouldn’t admit it. Not to herself and not to him, in fact, she refused to think about it, other than the times she caught Jean-Luc looking at her with love in his eyes. She would fleetingly think...”What if?”, Then dismiss it from her mind. No, there could be nothing between them except friendship. Yes, that was safe. As she sat there, that word kept repeating itself over and over. Safe. She dared to think more. “Why safe?” But it was too much. With an irritated shake of her head she rose from the bed and went to the replicator to order her dinner. In his quarters, Jean-Luc was furious with himself. “An extended leave of absence! To where? You foolish idiot!” He paced up and down in front of the view ports, his hands fisted by his sides. Suddenly he punched the clear aluminium, achieving nothing but pain in his hand. But that was preferable to the pain in his artificial heart, which was impossible, but he felt nonetheless. As he massaged his damaged hand he thought savagely, “Why can’t I just insist she confront her feelings for me? I know she loves me...why can’t she show me?” Deciding to act immediately, Jean-Luc lifted his head and said firmly, “Bridge, this is Picard. Contact Admiral Alynna Nechayev and transfer the communiqué to my quarters.” Admiral Nechayev was a notoriously hard woman. Abrupt, succinct and glacially cold, she was the scourge of fleet Captains, but over the years, despite giving Jean-Luc some very uncomfortable orders, they had developed a good working relationship. So it was to her he turned. The call came through fairly quickly and Jean-Luc found himself looking at a harried woman. “This better be good, Picard, I’m busy.” Smiling lopsidedly, Jean-Luc said sardonically, “As usual.” That brought a smile, changing her hard face. “Okay, what can I do for you?” His smile faded. “I want to take an extended leave of absence, effective immediately.” Nechayev was taken aback. Captain Jean-Luc Picard never took leave, in fact he had over two years of accumulated leave up his sleeve. “May I ask why?” Keeping his expression fairly bland, Jean-Luc replied, “I’m tired.” Nechayev frowned. “Of what?” With a sigh, Jean-Luc said wearily, “Admiral...” Nechayev leaned forward and dropped all pretence. “Jean-Luc, are you going to come back?” He gazed at her for a few seconds and almost whispered. “I don’t know.” The Admiral sat back, staring at Jean-Luc, trying to gauge what was in his mind. Eventually she shook her head and sighed. “Effective immediately, Commander William Riker is acting Captain of the Enterprise. Let me know when you want to come back, the Enterprise will be waiting.” Relieved, Jean-Luc sighed. “Thank you Alynna.” Just before the communication was ended, Nechayev said quietly, “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Jean-Luc.” The screen went blank, but Jean-Luc kept staring at it. “So do I, Admiral.” He rose slowly and exited his quarters, arriving at Riker’s. He pressed the chime twice before the door opened and a sleepy, pyjama-clad Will Riker answered. “Captain? Is there anything wrong, Sir?” Smiling to ease Will’s apprehension, Jean-Luc said quietly, “No, not at all. May I come in?” Gathering his wits about him, Will straightened and gestured with his hand. “Sorry, Captain, of course.” Once inside, without prior warning, Jean-Luc lifted his head and said firmly, “Computer, transfer all command protocols to Commander William T Riker. Authorisation, Picard, delta two eight.” “Authorisation accepted. The Enterprise is now under the command of Commander William T Riker.” Will’s mouth was agape. Jean-Luc turned to him and said, “I am taking an extended leave of absence. There is a remote chance I may not come back. If I don’t I hope you get the Enterprise, Will, no one deserves her more than you.” All Will could say in his shock and confusion was, “Captain?” But Jean-Luc simply said, “I leave in the yacht in the morning. Goodnight...Captain.” After he had gone, Deanna Troi, ship’s Counsellor, came out of the bedroom wrapped in a sheet. “Will, what’s going on?” Still befuddled, Will said distractedly, “You heard?” “Yes.” Scratching his rumpled hair, Will shook his head. “What the bloody hell is going on? The Captain taking and extended leave? And he might not come back? Holy shit Dee, I feel like I’ve been punched in the guts.” Returning to the bedroom, Deanna said over her shoulder, “I’d best go and talk to him.” Shaking his head, Will muttered, “Well someone should.” Jean-Luc was expecting Deanna and had his mental barriers well and truly fortified. Through his mind-meld with the Vulcan, Sarek, he had developed the ability to block Deanna’s half Betazoid empathic abilities. Full Betazoids were telepathic, but Deanna’s father had been Human. Her ability was to sense emotions. When the door chimed, Jean-Luc said equitably, “Come.” Deanna already knew he was blocking her, she sensed it well before she reached his quarters. After she had entered she smiled and said softly, “Good evening, Captain.” With a smile of his own, Jean-Luc returned the greeting. “Good evening, Counsellor, I hope I didn’t disturb your sleep.” Keeping her smile in place, Deanna replied, “Disturbed is an interesting word, Sir. Shocked might be more appropriate.” His smile stayed and his eyebrows rose. “Really? Surely I’m entitled to take some leave.” Deanna rolled her eyes. “Captain, you never take leave. You have to be dragged kicking and screaming just to go to the Admiral’s annual dinner.” That brought an unexpected chuckle from the man. “Counsellor, have you ever attended the Admiral’s annual dinner?” Bowing her head and clasping her hands behind her back, Deanna shook her head. “Ah, no, Sir, I haven’t.” “Then take it from me, think yourself lucky.” They both chuckled, then Deanna grew serious. “Captain, why are you taking this leave?” Equally serious, Jean-Luc replied, “I don’t see that that is any of your concern, Counsellor. I want some time off and I’m taking it.” “But, Captain...” Growing tired of what he felt was becoming an inquisition, Jean-Luc said with authority, “I have made my decision, Counsellor, you are dismissed.” With no other option, Deanna said quietly, “Yes, Sir.” And made for the doors, but as they opened, she turned and said softly, “Does Beverly know?” Jean-Luc glared but answered. “She knows I’m going.” With remarkable courage, Deanna dared to say, “Does she know you might not return?” All Deanna got was a clipped, “Goodnight, Counsellor.” Having made his decision, Jean-Luc went to bed. Deanna was a consummate professional and her job required she keep patient confidentiality, but there were times when she felt the need, to help her patients, to share some of what she knew. Finding herself outside Beverly’s quarters, she pressed the chime. As with Jean-Luc, she could feel Beverly’s emotions, a melange of anger, concern, confusion and worry. Annoyed at being disturbed, Beverly said testily, “Computer, who is at my door?” “Counsellor Deanna Troi.” With a resigned sigh, Beverly called out, “Come in, Deanna.” As soon as Deanna entered, Beverly said angrily, “I don’t want to talk about it!” Deanna smiled to herself. If ever there were the two most private individuals in existence, they were both on this ship. Without being invited, Deanna sat on the sofa and said quietly, “Have you spoken with him?” Beverly plopped down on her chair and said with exasperation as she ran her fingers through her hair, “Yes! He’s taking an extended leave of absence and he doesn’t even know where he’s going for God’s sake.” This is where it became tricky for Deanna. “Do you know he might not come back?” Beverly blanched, her voice a shocked whisper. “What? Why?” With a perplexed shrug, Deanna shook her head. “I’ve no idea, he won’t talk to me either.” Beverly slammed her fist down on the coffee table. “Damn him and his fucking moods!” Deanna frowned deeply. “I don’t think this is a mood Beverly. Something’s wrong here, very wrong and I think you know the answer. You may not be aware of it, but if there’s one person on this ship who would know, it’s you.” Anger flashed through Beverly’s eyes. “Me? Dee, he’s been avoiding me for the past month! I went to him and I asked what was wrong and he refused to tell me...other than informing me he taking a bloody extended leave of absence. And now you’re telling me he might not come back and I’m supposed to know why? Give me a break!” Deanna was well aware of their feelings for one another, but getting Beverly to admit hers was like pulling teeth. She leaned over the table and took Beverly’s hands. “Look at me Beverly.” She did so, but unwillingly. “Tell me how you feel about him.” Beverly rolled her eyes and snorted. “It’s no secret we’re best friends, Dee.” “Yes you are, but it goes deeper than that doesn’t it. Much deeper.” Beverly snatched her hands back and glared. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you, not with anybody.” With a deep sigh, Deanna looked at her friend with pity. “Well, Beverly, one day you’re going to have to face your feelings about the Captain. I can only hope it’s not too late.” With that, Deanna stood and left. Beverly quickly stood and began to pace. “Damn him, damn, him, damn him!” With little thought as to what she was going to say, Beverly left her quarters and sped to Jean-Luc’s, again entering without permission. The outer areas were dark and vacated, so she made for his bedroom, expecting him to be in the bathroom. The door quietly hissed open and there, illuminated by the streaking stars outside lay a naked Jean-Luc, eyes screwed shut as he masturbated. Beverly stood transfixed, shocked, but vaguely aroused as she watched him, his fist pumping his penis hard. Suddenly his free hand gripped his testicles and tugged them down as his back arched. As he came he cried out, “Beverly! And opened his eyes. He saw her almost immediately and choked back a sob of embarrassment and humiliation. Beverly whispered, “I’m sorry...” And fled his quarters. Jean-Luc rolled onto his side, curled up in the foetal position and sobbed into the pillow. Later he would shower and changed the bed, but for now his heart was breaking. “Why?” He thought. “Why did it have to be her to see me like that?” Beverly ran back to her quarters, tears streaming down her face. Once inside the safety of her cabin, she stood in the middle of the room, her hands covering her face as she tried unsuccessfully to rid herself of the image of Jean-Luc masturbating. She was filled with guilt and self loathing. “I drove him to that! To do that alone in his quarters. Poor soul, I wonder how long he’s been doing it?” But she innately knew and was filled with shame. “I drove him to that. Me. No wonder he may not come back!” Not knowing when he was to leave, Beverly came to a decision. “I’m going to insist on lunch tomorrow and I’m going to tell him how I feel. I’m going to tell him I love him!” She went to bed filled with resolve, but there would be no sleep for Beverly that night...or Jean-Luc. Tired of tossing and turning, Jean-Luc was up at oh four hundred. He showered, shaved and dressed in civilian clothing. He packed a few books, everything else he needed he could get from the yacht’s replicator. He took one final look around his quarters and clenched his jaw before turning on his heel and leaving. Once in the Captain’s yacht, he contacted the Bridge. “Picard to Bridge.” “Bridge here, Captain, Lieutenant Blood.” “I’m taking an extended leave, Lieutenant, in the Captain’s yacht, departing immediately. Prepare to drop out of warp for launch.” “Aye, Captain. Ah...Sir...your flight plan doesn’t seem to be in the log.” Jean-Luc smiled coldly. “That’s because I haven’t filed one. Follow my orders, Lieutenant.” The reply was crisp. “Yes, Sir!” The great ship came out of warp and the yacht detached itself from under the saucer section of the huge hull. Jean-Luc inputted a heading and refused to watch as the Enterprise went back to warp. His course lay in the opposite direction. He still didn’t know where he was going; he just knew he wanted to be as far away from his ship as possible. Beverly was up early too, but unlike Jean-Luc, she went to Sick Bay to work, her panacea for all that ailed her. But the events of the previous night kept nagging at her, so she decided to make her confession over breakfast. At the appointed time she went to Jean-Luc’s cabin and, despite what she had witnessed during the night, walked brazenly inside only to find him absent. Presuming, like her, he had decided to bury himself in work, she tapped her comm. badge. “Crusher to Picard.” No reply. Sighing and knowing he would be extremely embarrassed by what she’d seen, she tried again. “Crusher to Picard, respond please.” When she received no reply again, she snorted and lifted her head to say, “Computer, where is Captain Picard?” “Captain Picard is not on the Enterprise.” Shocked, and knowing she was partly to blame for his early departure, Beverly asked, “When did he leave?” “Oh four twenty-two hours.” Thinking quickly, Beverly continued. “Flight plan?” “Not logged.” Now growing frustrated, Beverly snapped, “Destination?” “Unknown.” Panicking, Beverly tapped her comm. badge. “Crusher to Riker.” “Riker here.” “Will, the Captain has gone.” She could hear the resignation in his voice as he replied, “Tell me about it! I’m acting Captain and I’ve been told he may not come back. Hell, Beverly, I’ve always wanted the big chair, but not like this.” Desperation pervaded every fibre of her being. “Did he tell you where he was going?” “Nope, he didn’t even log a flight plan.” Coming to a snap decision, Beverly turned and made for her quarters, saying, “Will, I’m requesting leave, effective immediately.” She clearly heard the regret in his voice. “No can do, Beverly. We’ve just received a distress call from Septimus Prime. Their monsoonal rains have caused massive flooding and mud slides. We’re the nearest ship and we’re travelling at maximum warp; you’re going to be working flat out...we can’t spare you.” Beverly stopped dead in her tracks. “Dammit, Will...” “I hear you, Beverly, but you simply can’t go. I’m sorry.” The Doctor in her knew he was right, but the woman wanted nothing more than to go after the man she loved, more than her duty as a Starfleet officer. But duty won out. With a resigned sigh she said wearily, “Understood Will, I’ll set up the cargo bays as triage centres.” Will’s voice was filled with pathos. “Thank you, Beverly, Riker out.” Jean-Luc sat in the cockpit of the yacht, staring sightlessly out the viewports as the vessel hurtled through space at warp nine point five, her maximum speed. He knew he should slow the ship, lest he over-tax the engine, but his need to put as much distance between him and the Enterprise overrode his good sense. Eventually though, he came out of his fugue state and mumbled, “Computer, slow to warp five.” “Acknowledged. Slowing to warp five.” Finally thinking about where he should go, Jean-Luc said quietly, “Computer, which is the furthest Star Base on our current heading.” “Star Base twenty-three is the most distant Star Base on our current heading.” “ETA?” “Fifteen days at our current speed.” Rubbing his lower lip with his fingers, Jean-Luc muttered, “Increase to warp seven-point-five. ETA?” “Eight days.” Nodding with satisfaction, Jean-Luc mused, “That should give me just enough time to figure out where to go.” He left the cockpit and settled in the day area. On the table were several large PADDS, each displaying archaeological digs. Picking one up, he read for a while before casting it aside and picking up another. Before long he had perused all the PADDS without finding what he was looking for. Discontented and frustrated, he sat back and rubbed his face, muttering, “Surely I can find something.” He then had a thought. Lifting his head he said, “Computer, what is the status of the archaeological dig on Delos?” “The dig was suspended on Delos, stardate 4325.9 due to the annexation of Delos to Cardassia Prime as per the dismantling of the Neutral Zone.” Jean-Luc frowned. “I see. Is there any information that may indicate the Cardassians have pursued an interest in the dig?” “There is no information to that effect.” Sighing, Jean-Luc rubbed his fingers over his lower lip. “Computer, have the Cardassians done anything at all with Delos?” “There is no information to suggest that Cardassia has any plans for Delos. Having suffered considerably during the Dominion war, it is doubtful Cardassia has the infrastructure to do anything but rebuild Cardassia Prime.” To himself, Jean-Luc muttered, “Interesting.” Then he asked, “Computer, to what level did the dig extend?” “Level five. The chief archaeological scientist; Doctor Steve Fleming, reported several significant finds, including intact pottery with ancient pictograms, some intact examples of woven art and some complete sets of tools, though their use was not determined at the time the dig was suspended.” Nodding, Jean-Luc said softly, “And it was established beyond doubt that the artefacts were from the second Hebician civilisation?” “Yes.” Jean-Luc shook his head again. “That is priceless to Cardassia. I wonder if they will ever investigate the dig themselves.” “That information is not available.” Ignoring the computer, Jean-Luc sat in silence for some minutes, thinking hard. A plan was forming, but it was one fraught with danger. Eventually he came to his decision. “Computer, set course for Delos, warp eight.” “Warning. Delos lies out of Federation space. Permission is required from Cardassia Prime to visit Delos.” “Override.” “Warning. Likelihood of encountering Cardassian war ships is high.” “Override warning and proceed on new course. ETA?” “Six days.” Leaning forward, Jean-Luc activated the computer terminal in front of him. “Computer, retrieve all known information on the Delos dig and display it at this terminal.” The screen came to life and Jean-Luc began to read with renewed enthusiasm. The Enterprise arrived during Septimus Prime’s long night. Having found a place near the main settlement to set up an evacuation centre, teams of personnel both beamed down and arrived in shuttles. Beverly and her emergency medical teams beamed down first. What they found was utter devastation. Those settlers who had survived the floods and mudslides were wandering around dazed and shocked. The meagre disaster response members were doing their best, but were completely overwhelmed. While Beverly and her teams began to treat the injured, engineers started the unenviable task of locating the dead and making the settlement safe by building levees and stabilising the surrounding hills. It was three long days and nights before the settlement was safe and all the living were located and the injured treated, either on the planet or on the Enterprise. It was an exhausted Beverly who reported to an equally spent Will. “In total we treated seven hundred and eighty-five people. The death toll stands at one hundred and forty-eight and I don’t expect that to rise, although we do have seventeen critical, I have every reason to believe they’ll recover. The cargo bays are now empty; Sick Bay can cope with what is left. The portable hospital on the surface has only five patients and I expect them to be discharged by tomorrow.” Will nodded slowly, his face haggard. “And those in Sick Bay?” Beverly pushed her hair off her shoulders. “Three days, maybe four for the worst two cases.” Placing his hand on her shoulder, Will summoned a wan smile. “You’ve done a great job, Beverly. Time you got some rest.” She shook her head. “No I’ll see it through, Will. Those poor devils have been through hell, the least I can do is see them well again.” He nodded. “And your teams? How are they holding up?” “They’re tired, no doubt, but the rotation has been working well. I commandeered everyone who had any medical training to assist. We’re okay. How did the engineering teams cope?” Gesturing the tired Doctor to a seat, Will sat in the Command Chair. “It was a big job to contain the river and build the levees, but they worked their usual magic. Geordi and Data came up with an ingenious idea to transport material from the more stable areas of the surrounding hills. It set lit permacrete. Those who were detailed to search for the dead will require counselling, but all in all, it’s mission accomplished.” “How long will we stay?” Running his fingers through his beard, Will shrugged. “About another week, I suppose. There’s a hell of a lot of cleaning up to do before the settlement is running smoothly again.” He knew by the glint in her eyes, that there was something else on her mind. “You still want a leave of absence?” When Beverly said nothing, Will sighed. “Well I suppose we can spare you now. Do you know where he is?” Echoing Will’s sigh, Beverly shook her head. “No idea.” The big acting Captain gave Beverly a frank look. “So you don’t know where to go. This could turn out to be a wild goose chase, Beverly...especially if the Captain doesn’t want to be found and you can’t be gone indefinitely...you’ll have to come home some time, we can’t cover for you forever.” Seeing the determined look on Beverly’s face, Will felt panic. “Tell me you’re not considering leaving Starfleet!” All Beverly could do was shrug. “He might not come back, Will. I have to find him...tell him.” Will was fully aware of Beverly’s feelings for Jean-Luc; in fact most of the crew knew...everyone it seems except Beverly herself. “What if you can’t find him?” Shaking her head, Will saw her determination. “I’m not going to give up Will, I don’t care how long it takes, I owe him that much. He’s waited long enough for me.” Will nodded slowly. “When will you leave?” “ASAP” A concerned Will shook his head. At least get a decent rest.” Beverly lifted her head and gave Will a frank look. “I can get as much rest as I need on the shuttle.” They shared a short silence before Will said softly, “I can’t talk you out of this, can I? There’s no chance you’d be willing to wait for him to return?” Again Beverly shook her head, but there was an air of sadness around her. “I have to go Will, you understand, don’t you?” He nodded slowly. “Yes, Beverly, I understand. I hope you find him.” Beverly stood slowly and offered a lopsided smile. She was exhausted, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. “Me too.” She headed toward to aft turbolift and Will called out softly, “Tell the Captain I’m keeping his seat warm.” In response Beverly just smiled and nodded. The six days of Jean-Luc’s journey to Delos passed relatively quickly. On the fifth day he passed the warning beacons informing him he was leaving Federation space and he entered the unknown with care, scanning light years ahead for any Cardassian ships. Delos appeared to the naked eye late on the sixth day and Jean-Luc entered orbit in the evening, deciding to wait until dawn to beam down. Despite being in hostile space, he slept well. It was as if making his decision to leave the Enterprise had lifted a burden from his shoulders. His only concern was that he may not return, but he pushed that to the back of his mind, along with the ever-present thoughts of his beloved Beverly and focussed his formidable intellect on the dig. After a light breakfast, Jean-Luc spent some time replicating all he would need for an extended stay on the surface. Two hours later he was standing amid his equipment on Delos. The Captain’s Yacht, the Calypso, was in orbit over the southern pole, ready to be remotely moved when he wanted her. The increased ionisation at the pole would help shield her presence from any scanning ships. Jean-Luc was a methodical and patient man. He spent ample time setting up his camp, making sure it was situated to be sheltered from the worst of the weather, but not too far from the dig which was located in an area of eighty-seven square metres of flat ground and extending into some nearby caves. Once he was satisfied all was well, he collected his tools and backpack and made the fifty or so metre journey to the excavations. The length of day and night not were not so dissimilar than that of Earth, so Jean-Luc found he could work steadily at his own pace, yet still make good progress. As usual, when he was engrossed, eating became a nuisance so he didn’t stop for lunch or dinner. It must have been summer, as it grew hot and stayed warm and light long into the evening. It was his back and knees that eventually told him to stop. He climbed slowly to his feet tired but satisfied. Slapping the dust from his clothing, he looked ruefully and his scuffed and grazed hands. Shaking his head he muttered, “You’re getting too soft, Picard. Time to toughen up.” He collected the specimens he had won from the hard dark brown soil and grey rock and made his way back to camp. He would catalogue the artefacts once he had washed and eaten a light meal. Hours later he was in his cot, barely able to keep his eyes open. Yet his last conscious thought was of Beverly. In the shuttle, cruising at warp six, Beverly sat on her bunk and tried to figure out where Jean-Luc had gone. When, after an hour of frustration she was no closer to feeling like she had solved the problem, Beverly stood and began to pace in the confined space available. Aloud she said, “Okay, stream of consciousness thought didn’t work. Time to get logical. If I was Jean-Luc, where would I go? Right, what are my interests. Music. Poetry. Classic literature. Exploration of space. Archaeology.” Beverly let out a small gasp. “Archaeology! Apart from exploration, archaeology is the only thing he can pursue that’s not on the Enterprise and the Calypso isn’t equipped for exploration of space...so...if it’s archaeology, where would he go?” Punching her thigh, Beverly almost shouted, “Dammit! I’m back to square one! I don’t know!!” She took a calming breath and sat down again. “Okay, Beverly, you know Jean-Luc better than just about anyone. Has he mentioned in the past any digs he was particularly interested in?” She snapped her fingers. “Yes! The dig on Berima II. Didn’t he say he was receiving regular reports from...God, what was her name?...Morgan Tyler! Yes, that’s it. Professor Tyler was excavating some ancient ruins on Berima II and Jean-Luc had mentioned he was very interested in her progress.” Moving quickly into the cockpit, Beverly tapped in some commands then said excitedly, “Computer, contact Professor Morgan Tyler on Berima II.” “There will be a delay of three and a half hours.” “Acknowledged.” Not wishing to put all her eggs in one basket, Beverly resumed her quest. “So, what else did he say? Come on, Beverly, think.” She closed her eyes and concentrated. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. “Wait! There was that dig on...on...Godammit where was it...Halcyon. Yes! And another on Bajor...and...oh God there must be hundreds of digs on dozens of planets. Which ones were he interested in?” After another twenty minutes of fruitless thinking, Beverly decided to contact all the leaders of the most important digs. They all knew Jean-Luc, maybe they might know something she didn’t. The closest dig was two days away by shuttle and the leader responded within fifteen minutes. His name was Brett Lee. “Hello, Doctor Crusher, how can I help you?” Smiling, Beverly said carefully, “I’m a good friend of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. He went on leave recently and I’m trying to track him down. Is he with you?” The blonde man frowned. “What was your name again?” “Crusher. Beverly Crusher.” Brett smiled and snapped his fingers. “Ah! Jean-Luc has spoken of you. No, Doctor Crusher, he’s not here, in fact I haven’t heard from him in...oh...three weeks.” Crestfallen, Beverly tried to hide her disappointment. “I see. Would you know which dig he would most likely visit?” Scratching his stubbled chin, the archaeologist frowned. “Well, let me see. He was interested in several digs, but Morgan Tyler’s on Berima II would be my guess.” “Thank you Professor, I’ve already contacted Berima II. I’m waiting to hear from them.” “Very good Doctor, I’m sorry I wasn’t of greater help. Tell Jean-Luc he owes me a visit. Lee out.” One by one Beverly called the other digs with no luck. In the end, all she could do was wait to hear from Berima II. Over the next day, Jean-Luc developed a system, one he had used on many digs. Just after dawn he checked his map and settled into his previous area and worked until late afternoon. He then forced himself to eat some field rations before resuming his painstaking excavations. At about eight thirty in the evening he finished and retired to his camp to wash, eat and catalogue his finds. He had decided to post his findings on the main archaeological computer site so other archaeologists could share in his work, but he did so anonymously, also keeping the location a closely guarded secret as Delos was officially out-of-bounds to Federation scientists. It was still a risk; the authorities could discover his presence through his posts and they would be obliged to alert the Cardassian government necessitating his removal by a hostile force and that could mean incarceration or worse on Cardassia, something Jean-Luc hoped fervently to avoid. However, the scientist in him required he share his work, after all, what was the point of his efforts if not to increase the knowledge of the scientific community? So, just before he retired for the night he sent a report to the site and made a mental note to be as vague as possible about his identity and location. Morgan Tyler was a handsome woman, about Jean-Luc’s age and vibrant, her innate intelligence shining in her green eyes. She too knew of Beverly through Jean-Luc and she smiled widely as soon as she heard Beverly mention her name. “Well hello there, Doctor, it’s nice to meet you at last. I feel I know you already.” Beverly smiled too, her natural gregariousness showing through. “It’s nice to meet you too, Doctor Tyler, but I feel you have me at a disadvantage.” The archaeologist waved a hand dismissively. “Morgan, please. Don’t worry about it Doctor, it’s just that Jean-Luc often spoke of you.” With a small chuckle, Beverly shook her head. “Please call me Beverly, Morgan. It’s about Jean-Luc that I’ve called you. Is he with you?” Morgan shook her head, frowning. “Why no, Beverly. I wasn’t aware he’d left his ship.” Offering a rueful smile, Beverly nodded. “He took us all by surprise actually. He left about five days ago, the trouble is, he didn’t say where he was going and I need to find him.” Morgan was obviously perplexed. “That doesn’t sound like Jean-Luc. Is he alright?” Not wishing to reveal all, Beverly hedged. “Oh he’s fine; I think he just needed some time off the ship. It’s been ages since he’s taken leave.” Morgan snorted. “Tell me about it! I’ve been trying for yonks to get him to come to this dig. I know he’s really interested but he wouldn’t leave that blasted ship of his. I’m really surprised he hasn’t showed up here.” Once again hiding her disappointment, Beverly summoned a genuine smile. “Oh well, I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere, I just have to keep looking, but if he does visit your dig, could you let me know please?” The archaeologist nodded vigorously. “You can bet on it, Beverly. I’ll give him a piece of my mind too while I’m at it. Disappearing like he has is not what I’d expect from him.” Beverly had to laugh, she could just imagine how Jean-Luc would react to that. “Don’t be too harsh, Morgan, even Starfleet Captains need to get away sometimes.” “I suppose. Nice meeting you, Beverly. Good luck, Tyler out.” With the channel closed, Beverly had run out of options. She had contacted every dig she could think of and Jean-Luc was nowhere to be found. Out of ideas and depressed, Beverly set course for the nearest Star Base. As the shuttle settled into the new course, Beverly contacted Alynna Nechayev. Jean-Luc felt a tingle of excitement sweep through his body as he caught the glint of green through the dirt. Quashing the urge to hurry, he patiently used his brush to carefully clear away the dirt that had entombed the artefact for so many centuries. At the brushstroke that finally revealed most of the find he couldn’t contain a gasp of pure joy and excitement. It was an intact knife; its blade made of jevonite, a rare and exquisite gemstone found only on Cardassia. To Jean-Luc’s knowledge it had never been seen anywhere other than Cardassia, making his find extremely significant. With tender care he lifted the knife from its bed and used another, stiffer brush to remove the remaining caked-on dirt. Reverently he turned the knife in his hands, his thumb automatically flicking the sides of the blade to test the sharpness. He was not surprised to find both sides still keen. Even dull with the ravages of time and dust, the jevonite still shone. He sat on his backside, overcome with awe as the significance of his find hit home. There was only one conclusion he could make. The people who had lived on Delos must have been space faring. How else could the knife with its jevonite blade make it from Cardassia? All his training as an amateur archaeologist told him not to jump to conclusions; to keep digging to build up the evidence, making his suppositions concrete, but this find was hard to deny. On the spot he decided to keep his find to himself for the time being while he strove to consolidate his conclusion. Only when he was positive beyond all doubt would he let the archaeological community know of his extraordinary discovery. In the back of his mind he also knew he had an ulterior motive. Once news of his find became public his time on Delos would have to come to an end. The Cardassian authorities would be notified and he would be at risk if he stayed. Part of him railed at his selfishness, but he was not yet ready to leave. Besides, the knife was safe. It would just have to wait a little longer to take its place in the limelight. After all, it had lain hidden under the soil of Delos for centuries. What was a few weeks, perhaps a month more? Deciding to end his work for the day on a high, Jean-Luc went back to his campsite, carrying the knife reverently in his hands. Beverly docked the shuttle at Star Base echo four and sat back in her seat still vaguely tired. Whist on her journey to the Star Base the enormity of her task hit home. Space was infinite, even Federation territory was vast. How the hell was she going to find Jean-Luc in all the emptiness? She felt intuitively that he would find somewhere to go, the idea of him just continually travelling didn’t sit right. No, he would find a planet she was sure, but which one? Knowing him as she did she knew he would keep himself busy, he wasn’t one to be idle. So she still felt archaeology would be what he would pursue. There were still plenty of lesser digs she could check, but she felt sure Jean-Luc wasn’t interested in them. If she ran dry in other areas she would eventually contact them, but in the meantime she would concentrate on those digs she knew intrigued him. So far she had drawn a blank, however that didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up at one of them so she had decided to base herself at the Star Base and wait. She would give it three weeks before she took to space again. Meanwhile she would spend her time searching via all Jean-Luc’s friends and acquaintances. Her call to Admiral Nechayev hadn’t been helpful. Not only was the Admiral annoyed at being contacted over what she felt was a trivial matter, she gave Beverly no good news. Not even Nechayev, whom Beverly knew Jean-Luc would have needed permission from for his leave knew his whereabouts. Of course the Admiral might be protecting Jean-Luc’s privacy, but Beverly sensed the relationship between Jean-Luc and the Admiral, though healthy, wouldn’t stretch that far. So Beverly entered the moderately large Star Base at a loose end, no closer to finding the man she loved. Jean-Luc felt renewed. Though the next four days brought only modest success, he knew the enormity of the discovery of the jevonite knife would sustain him for a very long time...perhaps even for the remainder of his life. At his campsite was a slowly growing collection of artefacts. Since finding the knife, the area he had been working dried up, so he had moved to a new site only a metre of so to the north. Still at level five, he had unearthed several interesting objects. He had discovered a seam that appeared rich in gravel and artefacts, as if a flood had inundated the ruins discovered in the upper levels. As he doggedly followed the seam, he realised it transected several marked out areas before diving down into a deeper level and meandering towards a cave. Jean-Luc tried to keep his excitement at bay, endeavouring instead to concentrate on being methodical in his excavations lest he overlook something important in haste. But it was indeed tantalising. With each scrape of his trowel or sweep of his brush he seemed to find something. Beside his kneeling form was a growing pile of artefacts he knew he would have intense pleasure cataloguing later that night. Jean-Luc allowed himself the indulgence of imagining the impact of his report when he finally posted it. Not bad for an amateur. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Hubris wasn’t something he allowed in himself, but just for a moment he basked in scientific glory. He worked that night until even the light from his lamps wasn’t enough. Tired but euphoric he retired to his tent, the knowledge that new discoveries awaited him the next day making sleep difficult. Even so, as he finally drifted into sleep, he thought of Beverly. Beverly was three and a half weeks into her search and still no sign of Jean-Luc. To ward off depression she kept busy during her days, scouring computer records and hunting for any person who may have an inkling as to where Jean-Luc might have gone. But that didn’t completely fill her days. She was acquainted with the station’s Chief Medical Officer so, to keep busy, she volunteered her services as a Doctor to give the CMO some time off. It wasn’t that the station’s Sick Bay was all that busy, it was simply, like Jean-Luc, she couldn’t stand to be idle. Besides she didn’t want time to think, to dwell on the years she had wasted...denied herself and Jean-Luc happiness by refusing to admit her love for him. She wasn’t as patient as Jean-Luc and she was aware her time at the Star Base was coming to a close. Soon she would leave, to journey without a destination in her search. Two days before her planned departure, Beverly was in Sick Bay when a call came through. “Doctor Crusher, this is Lieutenant Panesar in the Command Centre. I have a call for you from a Doctor Morgan Tyler.” A surge of excitement slithered down Beverly’s spine. “I’ll take it here, thank you, Lieutenant.” Sitting quickly and turning the monitor to face her, the pleasant visage of Morgan Tyler soon filled the screen. “Beverly! Hello.” Beverly tried to keep the excitement out of her voice, but it leaked through nonetheless. “Morgan! Any news?” “As a matter of fact yes, but it may not be as much as you’d like.” Beverly sat forward to the edge of her seat. “Go on.” “Someone has been posting reports from a dig inside what I believe to be Cardassian space and my gut feeling is it’s Jean-Luc.” Swallowing to wet her suddenly dry mouth, Beverly tried to stay calm. “What makes you think it’s him?” Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, maybe it’s the way the reports are written...that or the fact that I’m almost certain the dig is in Cardassian territory and I don’t know anyone other than Jean-Luc who would have the balls to venture there just for scientific research.” Beverly offered a rueful smile. “He is insatiably curious.” “That he is.” Under the table, Beverly crossed her fingers. “Do you know where the dig is?” “Now I’m not certain, you understand, but the only dig I can think of that would arouse that much interest in Jean-Luc...enough to entice him into forbidden territory is on Delos. When Delos was still in Federation territory our scientists found some very significant ruins and artefacts there. They had only just got to the most important levels when the Neutral Zone was abolished and the planet given over to Cardassia Prime. As far as I know, no further work has taken place there. The Cardassians certainly haven’t taken up the site; they’ve got their hands full rebuilding their home planet.” Beverly’s tongue slid across her lips in anticipation. “How successful has he been?” “Well presuming it is Jean-Luc, quite. There have been some moderately significant finds, but so far whoever it is hedging their bets.” With a frown, Beverly asked, “What do you mean?” Letting out a snort of displeasure, Morgan shook her head. “I can’t help but feel whoever it is, is holding back. I say that based solely on what our archaeologists found during their exploration. I would have expected more, that’s all.” “But you still think it may be Jean-Luc.” “Yes, I do. I have nothing but intuition to base that on, but I’ve read plenty of his dig reports and I’d bet a barrow load of latinum it’s him writing these new ones.” Beverly sat back and let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “Thank you, Morgan, that’s great news.” “I’m glad I could help, but what are you going to do?” Tilting her head in confusion, Beverly asked, “What do you mean? I’m going to Delos of course.” “But you can’t! Beverly it’s in Cardassian territory! If they catch you there, in fact if they catch either of you there you’ll be in deep trouble...trouble that the Federation won’t be able to help you with.” Beverly sighed, but her mind was made up. “It doesn’t matter, Morgan, I must go.” That stumped the archaeologist. She shrugged and thinned her lips. “Well okay, if you say so, but you’d best take care. Is there anyone you want me to inform of your plans?” Beverly shook her head. “No, the fewer who know the better. But thank you.” Thinking Beverly had lost her senses, Morgan shook her head. Don’t thank me, Beverly, I haven’t done you any favours. Just make sure you stay safe.” Beverly smiled her reassurance. “I will. Crusher out.” Beverly sat back in her seat filled with renewed purpose. “So, Delos it is!” The Cardassian ship entered the star system at a leisurely warp three. It was a routine patrol, taking in the inner systems close to, but far enough away from Cardassia Prime to necessitate the occasional check. The ship’s Commander, Gul Nerol, shifted in her seat, discontent and boredom making her even more waspish than usual. The hapless crewmember at the helm seemed to almost bow under the weight of his Commander’s displeasure. “Lemar, you useless cretin! There are barely four planets in this system. Why did you bring us here?” Lemar straightened somewhat and swallowed before he turned in his seat to face the cold, pinched face of his superior. “My apologies, Commander, but our present course was determined by Central Command. Their orders were inputted into our computers prior to leaving Cardassia. I thought you were aware.” Sitting forward and gripping the armrests, Nerol turned up her spite. “That is your excuse for disobeying my orders? I told you to set course for sector eight one five. We might actually find something useful to do there. The only planet here that can support life has been uninhabited for centuries. Why would Central Command want us to patrol here, it’s a waste of time and precious resources.” “As if it’s my fault!” Lemar thought bitterly. Knowing that showing the merest hint of disrespect would bring severe punishment, Lemar was careful to hide his feelings from his Commander. “My apologies, Commander. Would you like me to ignore Central Command’s orders?” “And risk losing my ship? Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Lemar. You think you’d make a fine Glyn, don’t you. Well let me enlighten you. You’re no more likely to make Glyn than I am to head the Obsidian Order. Cardassia is bankrupt! The few ships we have left are staffed by the left-overs that survived the war. Central Command only exists because the new civilian government needs someone to protect what’s left of our borders. Though how they expect a mere thirty ships to do that is anyone’s guess. I think Central Command will be disbanded as soon as the rebuilding of Cardassia is complete. What was once a mighty race of warriors will be reduced to mewling merchants within five years. Mark my words, Lemar. You will be lucky to be piloting a garbage scow in the near future.” Risking a further tirade, Lemar said quietly, “So what do I do, Commander?” Nerol glared icily, then flapped a hand. “Continue the patrol as ordered, you brainless troll. With only one planet to check, I presume you can handle it?” “Yes, Commander.” “Then see to it!” Almost as an afterthought, Nerol said listlessly, “What is the name of the useless ball of dirt?” “Delos, Commander.” She snorted. “Boring planet, boring name.” The seam of gravel and artefacts was holding Jean-Luc spellbound. He had followed it for several metres crossing under several already excavated areas. Most of the pottery was in shards and chunks, but the metal objects had survived remarkably well. To his immense satisfaction and joy, he had found another implement that had jevonite inlaid in the handle. He had no idea what the implement was used for, it consisted of the grip with its jevonite pattern, a five centimetre shaft made of a metal he was unfamiliar with which was intricately engraved and ending in three elegant hooks which rotated on a beautifully made swivel. Jean-Luc had spent the better part of an hour, sitting on his backside in his trench, bathed on hot sunlight, turning the object over and over in his now toughened hands as he tried to figure out what it was. Ultimately he gave up and returned to his digging, the tug of new discoveries too tantalising to ignore. By now he had a sizable collection of artefacts back at his campsite. He meticulously catalogued everything, but the sheer volume of finds was taking more and more of his time, meaning to get enough sleep each night, he was having to catalogue into the morning as well. It was an important task for any archaeologist and he certainly wouldn’t ignore it, but it rankled him nonetheless that the cataloguing was eating into the time he had to excavate. It was a fine balance, one he had to apply himself to, lest his enthusiasm to dig overcame his common sense. He had been digging for ten days. On the morning of the eleventh day, instead of going straight to his trench, Jean-Luc took a PADD loaded with the previous dig’s reports and looked at the site anew. From this new aspect he could see his trench was leading inexorably towards the cave entrance. He decided it was time to explore inside. He went back to the campsite and retrieved a torch. It was only a matter of minutes before he ventured into the darkness. He had only covered a few metres when the cold silence inside was broken by a cacophony of hellish screeching. Startled, Jean-Luc dived for cover, lying face down and covering his head with his arms. He felt soft objects hitting his clothing and warm wetness sprayed sporadically over him. As the shrieking subsided he risked raising his head and shining his torch upwards. He wasn’t surprised to see the remainder of a colony of bat-like creatures exiting the cave. As he slowly stood, a foetid, dust laden miasma assaulted his nostrils. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand, trying not to gag. Then he realised he had excrement and urine all over the back of his shirt and trousers. He waited several minutes as he became accustomed to the terrible smell. Once he felt able, he removed his hand and swept the cave with his torch light. It wasn’t very big, but in the now silent space he realised he could hear running water. Walking carefully towards the back of the cave, he had to stoop as the ceiling dipped downwards. He aimed his torch at where the floor met the wall. There he saw water-rounded gravel and stones and an opening just big enough to wriggle through. It was a significant discovery. With the chance of open galleries and a flowing water course heading into the mountains, Jean-Luc almost salivated at the thought of the treasures he might find. The question was...should he explore this new find? It was a golden rule of all archaeologists. Never explore alone. But Jean-Luc was curious by nature. Only time would tell if he was willing to break the rules. Beverly’s shuttle had a top speed of warp five, not like the Calypso which could do warp nine point five. It meant she had a longer journey to Delos than Jean-Luc would have had and she found herself dreading the coming days. Boredom was an anathema to Beverly. It made her bad tempered and listless. Her late husband, gone so many years, would, on the rare occasions it happened, assuage Beverly’s boredom with sex. In fact Jack Crusher used sex often to amuse Beverly. Though they’d only been married for five years, what with Jack’s long absences and Beverly’s work as a physician, when they were together sex was just about all they had. That and their son, Wesley. On reflection, and Beverly had had decades for that, she had reached the conclusion their marriage wouldn’t have lasted. Jack had meant well; Beverly knew he had loved her and their son, but her husband had never quite given up his love of space and exploration. He was so like his best friend and Captain, Jean-Luc Picard. Lost in thought, Beverly sat back in her seat and indulged in a bit of soul searching. Was she doomed to repeat history? She wondered. Am I, in wanting a relationship with Jean-Luc, only going to find myself playing second fiddle to his job...his first love? Needing to move, Beverly got to her feet and began to pace the small area available. Her hand came up to her mouth as her teeth played with her fingernails, a habit brought on by stress she had spent years trying to break. “Think about this carefully, Beverly.” She muttered softly to herself. “You just might find yourself alone yet again.” But then she shook her head. “No, it won’t like it was with Jack. He and I were so young, so naive. Jean-Luc is so much more mature...he’s in his seventies...well seasoned as it were. No, Jean-Luc loves me and he wants me, he would never place me second. At least I don’t think he would.” Frustrated, Beverly sat again, but found she had to fidget. “And what about me?” Her voice sounded forlorn in the otherwise empty craft and it irritated her. She knew she had to be brutally honest. “Okay, what about me? I’m just as dedicated to my career as Jean-Luc is to his. Am I prepared to give myself completely to him? We’re both loners, driven by our jobs...more interested in duty than personal needs, set in our ways, opinionated. Is there room in my life for a relationship? Is there room in his?” Again she stood and began to pace, the need to move undeniable. “He says he loves me.” She continued in the same soft voice. “But does he really? Could it be infatuation? No...surely he’s too old, too experienced for that.” The fingernails were being worried again. “Okay, not infatuation. What about the tried-and-true unattainable goal? Could that be it? I know he’s loved me since he first met me, before I was married to Jack even. Could I represent some kind of...perfect woman...ideal, but forever forbidden?” She thought about that then snorted. “Oh what complete and utter bullshit! God, Beverly, who do you think you are? Jean-Luc’s far too sensible for that.” She stilled her pacing and tilted her head. “So what is it then? What is this unspoken thing between us? Could it be as simple as love?” Her feet began their restless movement anew. “Come on, Beverly, be honest. Do you really love him...or is it pity? You know he’s loved you for decades and you feel sorry for him. Unrequited love is a bitch. Poets have known it for centuries.” Her eyes widened with an insight. “And Jean-Luc loves poetry! Is that all this is? Some kind of romantic fantasy on his part, driven by his sentimental streak? “ Her eyes narrowed. “Or has it become a habit with him? He has loved me so long it has become familiar and comfortable, kept alive by his inherent loneliness?” She shook her head brusquely and fisted her hands. “NO! That is being so unfair to him, you know better, Beverly. Admit it, he loves you unreservedly, no strings attached.” Having come to that conclusion, Beverly stood stock-still and lifted her bowed head. “Right, now’s the time, you coward. You love him with the same intensity, don’t you.” Letting out a deep, shuddering sigh, Beverly nodded slowly. “Yes I do.” Two fat tears slid slowly down Beverly’s face. She sniffed and sat heavily on the seat. She looked up at the ceiling and sniffed again, her voice breaking as she said softly, “Oh God, I was in love with him even through my marriage. I married the wrong man...I’m so sorry, Jean-Luc...so very sorry. I love you.” The days ahead stretched out before Beverly like some kind of punishment. Lemar checked his panel for the third time before he dared disturb his Commander. Straightening his spine, he swivelled his seat and made sure he showed proper deference when addressing the mercurial woman. “Commander Nerol, our scans are showing Cardassian life forms on the southern archipelago.” Removing her hand from where it had been supporting her chin, Nerol showed some interest. “Are you sure, Lemar? I wouldn’t put it past you to invent something so bizarre.” Swallowing his outrage, Lemar showed nothing but respect. “I am sure, Commander.” Nerol sat up from her disinterested slouch. “If I go over there and find you’ve made your usual incompetent job of interpreting the data I will feed you to my garr’.” As Nerol rose from her chair, a nervous Lemar turned back to his panel, surreptitiously checking his readout again. He sensed Nerol at his shoulder. Her thin index finger with its neat, cropped nail jabbed at some controls before she straightened and frowned. “It seems you are correct for once in your miserable existence. What are Cardassians doing here and how did they get here?” They were rhetorical questions, so Lemar kept his opinions to himself. He smelled Nerol breath as she bent forward and squinted. “Have you completed your scans?” Finding her breath offensive made it difficult not to turn his head away, but he dare not offend her. “No, Commander. I have yet to scan the mid great archipelago.” The cuff to the back of his head made his shiny black hair stand up, askew. “There are only two archipelagos, you fool, the rest is ocean. What’s taking you so long?” Staying completely still with his eyes glued to the panel, Lemar’s mouth went dry. “There are a lot of refractory minerals in the islands, Commander, it makes scanning very difficult. I will endeavour to make haste.” Nerol straightened and gripped Lemar’s shoulder, digging her nails in cruelly. “You’d better.” She then turned to her communications officer. “Hail the Cardassians on the surface.” “At once, Commander.” Being a cautious man, Jean-Luc had taken the precaution of setting proximity alarms around both the site and his campsite. His communicator was also open and set on roam, so he clearly heard the Cardassian hail. His hands froze and his head looked up at the sky involuntarily. “Merde!” He rose quickly taking his tools and backpack with him as he hurried to his tent. Once inside he opened a secure channel to the unmanned Calypso. “Computer, initiate a discrete scan around the planet.” The reply took only seconds. “Scan complete. There is a Cardassian warship, Galor class, in orbit.” Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly and muttered softly, “Shit! Computer, how many are on that ship?” “Unknown. That would require a deeper scan.” He knew about the refractory minerals and could only hope their scans wouldn’t pick up his solitary form. Still, he felt exposed. There was certainly no shelter afforded by his tent, but an idea came to him. He grabbed his backpack, tools and a tricorder and made a dash for the cave. He would hide there, hoping he would remain undiscovered whilst still monitoring the Cardassian channel. The bats had returned and he had to suffer another cacophonous exit, once again being splattered with excrement and urine. It was several minutes before the dust settled and the disgusting smell abated. The signal to his communicator wasn’t as strong in the cave, but it was clear enough to hear. “This is Gul Nerol of the Cardassian warship Reklar. Respond!” Jean-Luc waited tensely, knowing his fate was in the balance. Foolishly he hadn’t scanned the planet for life forms before he’d beamed down. Such a fundamental mistake was a rarity for Jean-Luc; he could only surmise his enthusiasm to get to the dig had clouded his usually sound judgment. It was an error he would never repeat. Several brittle moments passed before there was a reply. “Reklar, this is former Commander Benar. What are you doing here? We did not call for assistance.” “Former Commander? We did not call? Who are you, how many are you and what are you doing on this planet!” Nerol bridled at hearing the nonchalance in Benar’s voice as he replied, “There are thirty-seven of us, all former officers of the Obsidian Order. I see no reason why I should answer to you.” Even a former officer of the Obsidian Order demanded respect. In a milder tone, Nerol said. “I see. You are a long way from Cardassia. Can I be of any service?” The voice of Benar had become frosty. “No, Commander, we require nothing of you but to be left alone.” “May I ask what you are doing on Delos?” There was a very audible, longsuffering sigh. “You are persistent, Commander. We are looking at some ruins. We intend to investigate here before moving to the central archipelago in the coming weeks, depending on what we find here.” Nerol screwed up her face, thinking to herself, “Archaeology? I doubt it.” Aloud she said, “Very well, since you require nothing, we will complete our scans and leave.” “Thank you, Commander. One more thing. I would appreciate it if you did not log our presence in your report.” With a sneer, Nerol said in a clipped tone. “As you wish. Reklar out.” Nerol stalked back to the helm and loomed over Lemar. “Hurry up and finish the scans. I can smell those Obsidian Order bastards from here. I want to leave and I want to leave quickly.” Lemar’s hands flew over the console, before he sat back and reported. “There are no other life forms, Commander We are free to leave orbit.” “Finally! I suppose we’ll be led by the nose to our next destination?” Risking another cuff, Lemar said carefully, “If you mean our course is predetermined by our orders, then yes, Commander, our course has already been set. We leave for the K’Nar system immediately.” Nerol sneered at Lemar, took a step closer and hit him again. “You are an impudent wretch, Lemar. See if you can do your job better before you try and be smart. It doesn’t suit you.” Offering a crisp, “Yes, Commander!” A relieved Lemar turned back to his panel, grateful his Commander’s attention seemed to shift elsewhere. Jean-Luc stayed in the cave for half an hour before venturing out again. Having gained the coordinates of the Cardassians sharing the planet with him, he used his tricorder to reconfigure his communicator. It would no longer receive calls on the Starfleet channel; however it would pick up any transmissions the Cardassians made. If they were going to come to his island, he wanted ample time to leave. Still vaguely unsettled, Jean-Luc wandered to his trench and stared down at his work. “Is this worth risking my life?” He said softly. When no answer came to him, he jumped down and knelt to resume his work. It was a stray thought that stilled his hands. “Beverly would be angry with me for being so foolhardy.” With that thought foremost in his mind, Jean-Luc went back to his work. The mental turmoil had taken its toll. The events of the past weeks had caught up, leaving Beverly utterly exhausted. She had taken to her bunk, expecting to be too restless to sleep, but slipped into deep, dreamless oblivion almost immediately. She woke disorientated and hungry. “Computer, what is the time?” “Twenty two thirty hours.” Beverly’s eyebrows shot up. “Nine hours! Whew, I really needed sleep.” She ate a moderately large meal before going into the cockpit to check the settings. It was then she discovered she had been asleep nearly thirty hours. She was shocked, but not upset. As a Doctor she knew her body had needed the rest, but more than that, she was further into her journey than she had anticipated. With renewed enthusiasm, Beverly checked her ETA. “Only another three days!” She exclaimed. She opened a channel, meaning to call Jean-Luc, but had second thoughts. “No, it would be better if I turned up unexpected. If he has any warning he might run again.” With a decisive nod, Beverly started to give more thought to Jean-Luc’s choice of planet. “What was he thinking, going to a forbidden area. And for what? To dig around in the dirt? Not my idea of fun. If I were to take that kind of risk it would be for something much more worthwhile.” But she shook her head. “That’s unfair. Archaeology is important, but Jean-Luc is only an amateur. I’m sure he is good at it, but he shines best doing what he has devoted most of his life to: Captaining a Starship. No, he’s gone out on a limb this time.” As she mulled over his choices, something occurred to her. “He must have been very upset to go to such lengths to hide. I must have really hurt him.” She began to nibble her fingernails again. “Yes I did, but I think it’s more a culmination of things. This stupid dance of ours has been going on for years. His patience must have finally broken. Beverly, you have a lot of fences to mend.” Sitting quietly for a while, despair crept into Beverly’s thoughts. “What if it’s too late? What if waiting so long has soured his feelings for me? He may still love me, but has given up any hope of a relationship with me.” She suddenly stood. “What if he won’t see me? He may send me away. Oh God, I have to talk to him!” She rushed to the cockpit and opened a channel. “Crusher to Picard.” When there was no immediate reply, she called again. “Beverly Crusher to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Respond please.” There was no reply, only static. Undaunted, Beverly tapped a control to boost the signal. She tried again but still, there was no response. Somewhat concerned, Beverly said, “Computer, run a diagnostic on the communication array.” “Diagnostic complete. Communication array functioning normally.” Frowning deeply, Beverly tried something else. “Computer I am trying to call Captain Picard on Delos. Run a check on the receiving end.” “It appears the signal is not getting through.” “What is the reason for this?” “Unknown.” Beverly stated to pace. “What about some kind of interference?” “The meagre land masses of Delos contain refractory minerals, making scanning difficult. However with a boosted signal strength, you should have been able to get through.” “Is it night time on Delos?” “No.” Staring intently at the ceiling, Beverly said, “Well he shouldn’t be asleep. Maybe he’s not wearing his communicator, or maybe it’s damaged.” But Beverly knew better. Starfleet communicators were built to take all sorts of damage and still function, they had to, a person’s life could depend on it. Besides, Beverly knew Jean-Luc could repair all but the most severe damage. No, it had to be something else. In the back of her mind a little voice chimed in persistently. “What if he’s hurt? What if he’s injured, near death and you waited too long to tell him?” Savagely quelling the rising voice, Beverly all but shouted, “No! He’s fine, it must be a damaged communicator. I absolutely refuse to believe it’s too late!” She spun around, barking, “Computer, is there any way to increase speed?” “Shutting off all non-essential systems will produce an increase of ten percent.” “Not good enough. I want more speed! What else can I do?” “Taking navigation and deflectors off line will give a further twenty five percent. However such action is ill advised.” Hurrying into the cockpit, Beverly took the pilot’s seat. “I don’t give a flying fuck! Do it! Shut down all non essential systems and take navigation and deflectors off line.” Beverly felt the little ship surge. With grim satisfaction she asked, “Computer, ETA?” “One day, six hours.” With a curt nod, Beverly snarled. “That’s more like it. Whether you’re ready or not, I’m coming, Jean-Luc.” Over the next couple of days, Jean-Luc became used to the soft chatter emanating from his communicator. He listened to it subliminally, devoting only a fraction of his attention to it, but it was enough to stay aware. Though he had doubted their sincerity, Jean-Luc was surprised to find the Cardassians were actually excavating the ruins. The ruins on the southern archipelago weren’t as comprehensive as those he was exploring, indeed, not nearly as many quality artefacts had been found there and Jean-Luc was still suspicious...these were former Obsidian Order officers after all, but until he found otherwise he would give them the benefit of the doubt and simply remain alert to their chatter. He had returned to the trench, putting the cave on the back burner for now. The bottom of the trench had taken a sharp dive down and he had dug quite a deep hole to stay with the seam. He noted it had begun to rain but most of his concentration was on his hands as he started to unearth what he believed was a large metal object. The wind had picked up, but the falling rain had dampened the dust. Soon little rivulets of muddy water began to erode the sides of the trench. Oblivious, Jean-Luc worked on ignoring the water gathering around his knees. It began to pour, the raindrops beginning to obscure his vision. He was just raising his head to look up at the rain when the trench collapsed. The air was forced from his lungs by the sudden weight of the sodden earth that fell on him. His right hand was jammed painfully under the metal object as it was shoved back into its resting spot. His upper body was violently pushed forward and he tried to brace himself on his arms, but a rock hit him at the base of his head, knocking him out. He toppled forward, his face buried in the mud as the wet earth piled on top of his prone body. As the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, little landslides continued to pour down into the trench, covering what little remained of his presence. In all it had taken forty-two seconds. Unlike Jean-Luc, Beverly scanned the planet thoroughly. Having found the Cardassians, Beverly assumed she had been mistaken; Jean-Luc couldn’t possibly be there as well, but wanting to be absolutely sure, Beverly continued her scan and found the tiny trace of a human life form on an island of the mid archipelago. Relieved, Beverly stared at the blinking light that represented the man she loved and smiled. “Gotcha! Here I come, Jean-Luc, ready or not.” She had found the Calypso and knew why Jean-Luc had put her there, so she parked the shuttle alongside the Captain’s yacht. She checked the weather only to find there was rain about at his location, so she replicated a waterproof jacket and a backpack with a change of clothing. Standing on the transporter pad, Beverly felt a tingle of anticipation for what lay ahead. With butterflies taking flight in her stomach, she said, “Computer, energise.” Jean-Luc woke in a panic. His mouth and nose was full of mud and he could barely breathe. Fortunately the mud had not compacted, leaving him just able to move his left arm. Doing his best to quell the desperate panic, he concentrated on moving his arm until his hand was near his face. Then with small, careful movements, he used his hand to create a small pocket in front of his mouth. Pushing with his tongue and scooping in small increments with his fingers, he managed to clear his mouth of mud and take a small breath. The urge to pant was almost overwhelming, but he controlled himself and began to regulate his breathing. Once the light headedness of oxygen deprivation had passed, he tensed his arms and legs to see if he could lift the weight of mud from his body. He soon discovered it was too heavy. His predicament was dire. Knowing he would soon run out of oxygen, Jean-Luc tried again to move his body, but the mud held him fast. He tried to stay calm, but the thought of being buried alive made him cry out. Unfortunately, there was no one to hear. Beverly materialised half way between Jean-Luc’s campsite and the dig. She looked around, but saw nothing of her best friend. She called out, “Jean-Luc?” But he didn’t answer. She checked the tent, smiling at the carefully laid out artefacts, each with its own identifying tag. Going outside, she shielded her eyes from the bright sun and looked up at the sky. To the south west, dark clouds threatened. Her search took her to the dig site, but a cursory look showed that Jean-Luc wasn’t there, either. Frowning, Beverly swept her eyes around and caught sight of the cave entrance. She quickly went to it and called his name again, but still, no answer. She was reluctant to enter the cave, but she knew she had to. When the bats took flight she yelped and covered her head with her hands. The smell and the disgusting mess on her clothing almost made her want to leave, but such was her need to find Jean-Luc, she went further into the cave, going to the sound of running water. She had no torch, but using her hands, she found the hole and wondered if Jean-Luc had wriggled through it to explore. Lying flat, she got her head and shoulders through the hole and yelled loudly to be heard over the sound of the water, but there was no reply. Reluctantly she left the cave and wandered back to the dig. She stood at its edge, hands on hips. “Where the hell is he?” It was then that she spotted Jean-Luc’s backpack. She walked over to it and as she got closer, she saw the caved in trench. Alarm immediately swept through her. Dropping to her knees she yelled, “Jean-Luc?” At the periphery of his hearing, Jean-Luc thought he heard something. He suddenly stopped his laboured breathing to listen. His eyes were closed, but he was seeing stars and he knew he would soon lose consciousness. Beverly began to frantically dig with her hands. She yelled again. “Jean-Luc...can you hear me?” There it was again, someone calling, but faintly. Jean-Luc tried to call out, but he was nearly out of oxygen. All he could do was hope that whoever it was reached him before he died of asphyxiation. Beverly placed her feet at the sides of the trench and used her hands to scoop the still wet mud between her legs. She quashed the urge to panic, instead employing a continuous, methodical approach to her digging. She was rewarded ten minutes later when her fingers brushed Jean-Luc’s shirt. She called his name again and quickened her digging. Jean-Luc’s time had run out. He gasped his final breath and, just as blackness enveloped him, he thought of Beverly. More of Jean-Luc’s clothing was being unearthed. Beverly concentrated on finding his head and shoulders. Her hands soon uncovered the back of his head, his blood mixed with the mud. With two deep scoops she removed the earth from the sides of Jean-Luc’s face and wriggled her fingers under his head until she was cradling his face. She gently lifted his head and turned it. He wasn’t breathing. Beverly yelled his name, but she didn’t panic. The Doctor took over and she managed to free his shoulders so she could twist his upper body. He had a weak and thready pulse which encouraged her, but she had to get air into his lungs. It took seven deep breaths from her to him before he suddenly coughed. Beverly wiped as much mud from his face as she could and noted colour was returning to his skin. Gently she said his name again. “Jean-Luc?” His eyes fluttered then opened into slits. He opened his mouth and rasped, “Beverly?” She smiled down at him, blinking away her tears. “Yes, it’s me. You were trapped, but you’re going to be okay. Just let me dig you out.” It took nearly twenty minutes to free Jean-Luc from the clinging mud. While Beverly dug, Jean-Luc felt his strength returning. His head was throbbing and his right hand hurt, but other than that he felt reasonably well. Once he was free he was able to help Beverly to get him out of the trench. He was filthy but neither cared. They hugged tightly, both reluctant to let go. Eventually it was Jean-Luc who gently pulled back. He turned his head and spat some mud out of his mouth before saying roughly, “Thank you, Beverly, you saved my life.” She smiled warmly. “What were you doing down there anyway?” Before Jean-Luc could answer, Beverly shook her head and held up one hand. “Stupid question. You were digging for artefacts.” Jean-Luc nodded. “Uh huh. I have found a seam of gravel left over from a big flood. It is littered with artefacts. I’ve made some significant finds.” That made Beverly frown deeply. “At a dig on a planet you’re not supposed to visit. Why here, Jean-Luc?” Just then it started to rain heavily. Jean-Luc sidestepped the question by pointing to the tent and saying, “Come on, let’s go inside.” Beverly knew exactly what he was doing, but let it pass. Once they were out of the rain, Jean-Luc picked up his towel. “I’m going outside to wash. I won’t be long, make yourself at home.” He was outside before Beverly could respond. Ten minutes passed before a clean Captain entered with the towel around his slim waist, and carrying his now clean clothing. Crooking a finger at him, Beverly said, “Come here, I want to see the wound on the back of your head.” By the tone of her voice, Jean-Luc could tell she was angry. Instead of his usual protests, Jean-Luc went meekly to her and turned so she could examine him. He winced softly as her fingers probed the wound. Although he couldn’t see her, he knew she was shaking her head. “You have a med kit?” “Yes.” “Get it.” As he retrieved the med kit he thought, “She’s really angry. Be very careful, Jean-Luc, don’t do anything to antagonise her further.” He returned to Beverly and stood still while she healed his injury. Two hands on his shoulder turned him until they were facing each other. “Have you any other injuries?” He was about to say no, but the throbbing in his hand reminded him. He silently held up his right hand and Beverly scanned it. She snorted softly as ran a regenerator over it. The throbbing faded away as she remarked matter-of-factly, “Bruised, nothing more.” They again looked at each other again until Beverly huffed. “You took a hell of a risk coming here, Jean-Luc.” Not breaking eye contact he said softly, “I know.” “What about those Cardassians? Did you think they would just ignore you?” He gaze didn’t falter. “They don’t know I’m here.” Beverly’s lips parted, her tongue flicking out. “Why did you beam down when there were Cardassians already here?” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he said in his deep soft voice, “I didn’t know they were here.” Confused, Beverly shook her head. “Your scans missed them?” “I didn’t scan before I beamed down.” This time Beverly gaped. “What? You didn’t scan before beaming down to a planet in hostile territory? Why the hell not?” Still maintaining his steady gaze into her eyes, Jean-Luc offered a small shrug. “I just didn’t do it. Perhaps my mind was on other things.” That made Beverly blush and it took several seconds for her to recover. She found his unwavering gaze mesmerising; she’s always loved his dark, hazel eyes. In them she could see his intelligence, his warmth and his love. She blinked rapidly in an effort to break the spell. “Well that was very foolish of you, I would expect better from someone as experienced as you, Jean-Luc.” The barely there smile was back. “Indeed. Now tell me, Beverly, what are you doing here?” Caught in his gaze, Beverly panicked. “What? Oh, um, I was worried about you, that’s all. You left the Enterprise with no warning. That’s not like you, Jean-Luc.” He said nothing, just continued to stare intently into Beverly’s blue eyes. A voice inside Beverly’s head was clamouring, “Tell him!!” But her stubbornness wouldn’t let her. Instead she went on the offensive. “You have caused a lot of people to worry, Jean-Luc; running away as you did.” His eyes darkened slightly. “Who says I was running away?” Beverly lifted her head haughtily, but maintained eye contact. “I do.” She expected him to back down, but he didn’t. “Why did you come, Beverly.” This was it. The time had come to confess her love, but she wavered. She didn’t see Jean-Luc’s hand rise, but she felt his fingers gently caress her cheek His voice was nothing but a deep, mellifluous rumble when he softly demanded, “Tell me.” His gaze was so intense, so filled with love and determination, Beverly’s walls finally crumbled. With her eyes filling with tears and her lower lip trembling she whispered, “I love you, Jean-Luc. I think I always have.” As he slowly neared her, Beverly closed her eyes. His kiss was so tender she swooned. She felt his strong arm wind around her waist, keeping her on her feet. The kiss grew as she opened to him. Their tongues met and Beverly felt a shiver go the length of her spine as Jean-Luc moaned softly and sensuously. Their bodies pressed together and Beverly could feel Jean-Luc beginning to harden through the towel. The kiss grew into hot passion as years of pent up desire finally found freedom. Jean-Luc’s free hand undid the buttons of Beverly’s shirt before sneaking in to cup her breast. Beverly gasped and pulled back, breaking the kiss, but not Jean-Luc’s grip of her breast. Jean-Luc misread her intentions. His face clouded with anger and hurt. He growled, “Oh no you don’t! You want it as much as I do!” As if to make his point, Jean-Luc squeezed Beverly’s breast then found and tweaked her turgid nipple. She let her head loll back as she moaned with desire. He watched as her hand came up to his and took it from her breast. Jean-Luc was devastated. In a broken voice he said piteously, “Please, Beverly...” She looked into his moist eyes and smiled. As he watched she began to slowly undress. He blinked away his tears as he realised what she was doing. Desire coloured his skin and darkened his eyes. This time when he said her name, it was with passion. “Oh, Beverly.” The towel tented with his erection as he watched. Twice he tried to touch her, but she wouldn’t allow it. By the time she was fully naked, he was almost overwhelmed with need. Beverly stepped to him, her fingers insinuating themselves under the towel. With a deft flick, the towel fell around his feet. Beverly pressed herself against him and they moaned at the sensation. They kissed as Jean-Luc slowly moved them to his cot. He eased Beverly down, with the intention of indulging in foreplay, but Beverly looked up at him and shook her head. “I want you now, Jean-Luc.” Her words eroded his control. Carefully covering her body with his, he gently bit her neck as she parted her legs. He slid into her easily, as if she was meant for him alone. He closed his eyes against the heady rush of penetration. Beverly moaned and lifted her hips, grinding against him. He began to thrust fast and Beverly writhed under him. Suddenly he thrust deep inside her, stiffened and groaned. Realising what had happened, Beverly stroked his back and said softly, “It’s okay, Jean-Luc, I don’t mind.” It took a few minutes for Jean-Luc to recover from his hasty orgasm. Beverly was surprised when he lifted his head and smiled. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been quite a long time and I’ve thought about this for so long...” Beverly interrupted by stroking his face and saying, “Hey, it’s okay, I understand completely.” Jean-Luc’s smile grew and he shook his head. “No you don’t, Beverly. Just give me a moment.” He kissed her then and Beverly realised she could feel him begin to harden inside her. When he broke the kiss it was Beverly’s turn to smile. “Oh, my. What a clever man you are.” This time he began to thrust slowly and gently. They slipped into the rhythm easily, each savouring the sensations, kissing and whispering endearments to each other. Slowly Jean-Luc hastened and Beverly abruptly came, crying out in ecstasy. Knowing his own orgasm was near, Jean-Luc deepened his thrusts, making Beverly come again. Jean-Luc lifted himself and stared down at Beverly. The sight of her writhing through her orgasm tipped him over the edge. He plunged deep inside her and screwed his eyes shut as he gave himself to his climax. It was some time before they recovered. Jean-Luc rolled them to their sides, still connected. Beverly smiled at him and whispered, “You haven’t said it.” His eyebrows lifted. “Said what?” He asked in a deep rumble. “Said that you love me.” He smiled. “I just showed you.” Beverly liked this game. She grinned with mischief and shook her head. “Uh huh. You have to tell me.” “Do I?” He asked equably as he propped himself up on his elbow. She pinched his nipple, making him growl. “Yes you do!” “Why?” Her hand left his nipple to tickle his testicles. He stifled a laugh and grabbed her hand, muttering, “Wench! Tell me. Why do I have to tell you?” Looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, Beverly batted her eyelids. “Because I told you.” He shook his head. “But you know I love you. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you.” Her mischief fled making her eyes fill with tears. “Yes, my love, I know and I’m so sorry I made you wait so long. I was such a fool.” His tender kiss made Beverly weep. Jean-Luc held her to him, his own eyes filling. In silence they made love again, lying on their sides, Jean-Luc’s fingers teasing Beverly’s clit. They came in a heady rush and in doing so they cleansed each other of guilt and sorrow. As they basked in the afterglow, Jean-Luc whispered huskily, “I love you, Beverly. I am incomplete without you.” They slipped into sleep in each other’s arms. It was dawn when Jean-Luc awoke. Beverly’s back was pressed against him as they spooned in the narrow cot. He stretched and grimaced at his sore muscles. His movement woke Beverly and she too soon discovered just how sore she was. She moaned, making Jean-Luc chuckle. “You too?” Beverly groaned again and turned over. “You’d think there’d be some kind of exercises one could do to keep fit enough for sex.” Jean-Luc offered a lopsided smile, then kissed Beverly gently. She smiled and returned the kiss. “We should have done this years ago.” Jean-Luc was running his fingers over the skin of her back, making runes. Beverly mewed her pleasure and snuggled closer. “Perhaps, but I’d like to think that now is the right time.” That made her open her eyes. “Do you really think so?” “Uh huh.” Was all he said. He was erect, but seemed to be in no hurry to use it. Beverly basked in his caresses growing ever more aroused. With gentle persuasion, she manoeuvred Jean-Luc under her. Slowly she sat up and straddled him. He looked up at her and she gasped softly at seeing the love swirling in his eyes. “You are magnificent, Beverly.” She smiled and lifted her hips. As she guided his erection inside her she purred, “We’re both magnificent, my love.” Their lovemaking started out languid and slow, but soon became urgent. Jean-Luc grabbed her hips as he thrust up into her and rolled, spilling them from the cot. On the floor of the tent they made love with unbridled passion, bruising each other, biting and scratching until, covered with sweat and blood they came in a cataclysmic shared orgasm, their cries of liberation echoing outside. They slept where they were, on the floor, tangled together. Cramp made Beverly yelp in pain, waking Jean-Luc with a start. “Beverly! Are you all right?” The cramp bit again and Beverly winced. Through gritted teeth she managed. “Cramp...” Immediately understanding, Jean-Luc untangled them and saw Beverly grip her left calf. He quickly knelt between her legs and took the afflicted leg to straighten it, however it wasn’t until he bent her foot back that the cramp let go. Beverly relaxed and let out a long sigh of relief. She smiled ruefully and looked down the length of her body at her naked lover. “I’m not as young as I used to be. That never used to happen.” Jean-Luc grunted his agreement. “I know what you mean. I’m sore too.” He laid her leg down gently then slowly stood. He held out a helping hand to Beverly, but she was busy admiring his well muscled body. He had to say her name twice before she broke her gaze. “What? Oh, thanks.” He helped her to her feet and they both smiled shyly. Jean-Luc banished the awkwardness by kissing her. It was deepening until Beverly’s stomach rumbled. He broke the kiss with a chuckle. “I take it you’re hungry?” Reddening, all Beverly did was nod. Jean-Luc shook his head ruefully. “Very well. You get dressed while I make some breakfast.” Beverly gave him a saucy look and said brazenly, “Are you going to cook naked?” He gave a mock glare. “No I’m not.” She watched with amusement as Jean-Luc sought some fresh clothes and quickly dressed. As he made himself comfortable in his underwear, Beverly licked her lips. Jean-Luc sighed expansively. “You, Beverly, are insatiable.” She just grinned perkily and said, “And you, Jean-Luc, are magnificent.” Nothing more was said until they were both seated outside with their plates on their laps. As they ate, Beverly asked gently, “You were running away, weren’t you.” Jean-Luc stopped eating and stared at his plate. Eventually he nodded and said softly. “Yes.” Beverly sighed. “It was because of me, wasn’t it.” He nodded. “I’m sorry, Jean-Luc.” He looked up and smiled, but his eyes showed his sorrow. “There’s no need, Beverly. I’m all right now.” He lowered his head again, making Beverly bend to see under his brow. “I hurt you though, Jean-Luc and you still feel that hurt. I wish we could turn back time.” He lifted his head and reached for her hand. “We have each other now. I am finally complete, Beverly. Your love has filled my empty heart and I feel reborn. Don’t dwell in the past, it is gone. Let’s celebrate the now and what’s to come.” A gentle, contented silence filled the air as they held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes. After a few minutes it settled and they finished their meal. It was then that Beverly revisited a question from the day before. “Why this planet, Jean-Luc?” This time he answered her. “I wanted to hide, but I also needed something to do. I had been following the progress of this dig right up until it was abandoned. It seemed to be the perfect place. I didn’t think anyone would think to look here if they were trying to find me.” Beverly nodded slowly, digesting what he had said. “And were you going to return to the Enterprise?” With a deep sigh, Jean-Luc bowed his head. His voice was deep and husky. “I don’t know.” “I see. And now?” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “I still don’t know.” Beverly held his gaze and said softly, “So what do you intend to do?” His eyes left hers and swept over the dig. “Stay here and keep digging.” “For how long?” He shrugged, but said nothing. Beverly took his hand and asked gently, “What are you looking for, Jean-Luc?” He shook his head. “I’m not sure.” She squeezed his hand. “May I search with you?” His eyes met hers and he smiled. “Yes, I think I’d like that.” There was a companionable silence until Beverly asked, “What about the Cardassians.” Jean-Luc shrugged again and sighed. “If they come, we will leave.” Wryly Beverly said, “As long as they don’t discover us first.” Reaching into his pocket, Jean-Luc produced his communicator and activated it. Beverly heard the soft chatter of Cardassian voices, making her raise her eyebrows. Jean-Luc grinned. “We will have plenty of warning.” Sobering somewhat, Beverly gave Jean-Luc a frank look. “You’d better be right.” Jean-Luc’s smile faded as the weight of Beverly’s words settled on him. To lighten the mood, he took her hand and began to walk towards the dig. “Come, let me show you what I’ve been doing.” Former Commander Resan Benar looked up from his digging to see his friend Hessin approaching, carrying some field rations. He straightened and smiled. “Ah, Hessin, just in time. I was getting hungry.” The woman smiled, changing her face completely. “You would have to be hungry to want to eat these field rations.” She squatted beside her lover and looked down at the shallow excavation. “Found anything?” Benar turned his mouth down and shook his head. “No, though I do keep trying.” He took a packet of rations and tore it open. Hessin screwed her nose up when he offered her some. “No thank you! I don’t know how you can eat that cold. It’s bad enough hot.” Benar shrugged. “I’ve eaten far worse.” Silence descended as he ate. Hessin toed some of the dirt near her foot, prompting Benar to ask, “Have you found anything?” She looked up from her contemplation of the earth and nodded. “Yes, this morning I found a pottery shard. Gedna says it’s important because it has pictograms on it.” Smiling indulgently, Benar said with amusement, “What do you think?” Hessin snorted. “I think it’s a broken bit of pottery.” She looked into Benar’s eyes and asked softly, “What are we doing here, Benar? We’re Obsidian Order officers not archaeologists. Apart from Gedna, none of us know what we’re doing.” Benar chewed for a moment before saying gently, “There is no Obsidian Order anymore, Hessin.” “I know that!” She snapped. “That doesn’t explain what we’re doing here!” Putting the last bite in his mouth, Benar chewed thoughtfully while Hessin fumed beside him. He swallowed and lifted his head to look at her. “You have changed these last few months, Hessin.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Don’t change the subject!” “Very well. Tell me, do you want things to go back the way they were?” Suspicion clouded Hessin’s features. “What do you mean?” Benar looked over towards the hills and pursed his thin lips. “I mean the way Cardassia was under military rule. Do you still want to be a Obsidian Order officer?” Hessin’s eyes narrowed, her gaze becoming piercing. “Yes!” With a sweep of his hand, Benar lowered his voice. “Then be patient. I have been reliably informed there is something hidden in the ruins that has the capacity to restore Cardassia to its former glory.” Hessin gaped, then whispered urgently, “What is it? A weapon?” Benar shook his head. “I’m not certain, but it is something powerful. I will know when we find it.” Leaning forward, Hessin hissed, “And it’s hidden in these ruins?” Benar hesitated, making Hessin blurt, “Benar?” He sighed and offered a wry smile. “If not in these ruins, then in the ruins located in the mid archipelago.” Hessin scowled. “You don’t know which?” “No.” Said Benar, shaking his head. “All I was told was that it was hidden in the ruins on Delos. I chose to look here first because Federation archaeologists had worked for some time on the mid ruins and found nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed logical to start here.” Hessin sat back and chewed her lip. “Well there’s nothing here, Benar, we may as well move to the other ruins.” He shook his head, stating emphatically. “No! We must be thorough, Hessin. We will not move until we’ve scoured every square centimetre of these ruins. I want to be in no doubt.” Lowering her head in deference, Hessin said softly, “Of course, Benar.” Then she said carefully, “Do the others know?” Benar shook his head. “Not specifically. I’ve told them we are searching for something of great value, something that may change their lives, but what that is, they don’t know.” Hessin looked over at the others, spread out throughout the ruins, all digging. “They show great loyalty.” Benar nodded, also watching his companions. “Yes, it is gratifying. We have all served together a very long time.” Lifting her head, Hessin said with pride, “Still, we are Obsidian Order.” Benar smiled kindly. “Not any more.” Hessin looked at him, her gaze intense. “But soon?” His smile faded and his dark eyes glittered. “Yes. Soon.” Drawn like a moth to fire, Jean-Luc returned to the trench. Over the next two days they dug it out and strengthened the walls. It rained sporadically, but they didn’t care, working through the showers, finding relief from the heat of the sun. Finally they reached the gravel seam. Beverly knelt next to her lover and watched as he carefully uncovered the metal object he’d nearly won before the cave in. He held it reverently while Beverly gently poured water from her bottle over it. The first thing they saw was the lustre of jevonite. Beverly gasped and Jean-Luc briefly closed his eyes. “Oh, Jean-Luc! It’s so beautiful. Is it jade?” He shook his head and smiled. “No, it’s jevonite.” Gaping, Beverly’s eyes flicked between the artefact and Jean-Luc. She pointed at the object in Jean-Luc’s hands. “My God...how old is that?” He smiled as his eyes settled on his hands and the treasure they held. “Many centuries. The scientists who worked on this dig opined it was the second Hebician civilisation, but I think it was the first. This gravel seam is much deeper than they dug.” Nodding slowly, Beverly said gently, “So this is important.” Also nodding, Jean-Luc smiled at the understatement. “Yes, Beverly, very important.” Beverly gently ran her fingers over the inlaid handle. “What is it?” Jean-Luc held it up as he inspected it. His laughter took Beverly off guard. “I have no idea.” His mirth was infectious. Soon they were both in hysterics. Beverly wiped at her teary eyes, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. “Jean-Luc, stop!” He shook his head and laughed again. “Why? It feels so damned good!” They collapsed in laughter again before Beverly managed, “What are we laughing at?” That made Jean-Luc laugh even harder. “I don’t know!” It was so ridiculous. Beverly had rarely seen Jean-Luc lose himself in laughter. He was usually so reserved, but the laughter transformed him. Beverly had a flash of insight. “This is what he must have been like as a boy!” After some hilarious minutes, they began to settle. Jean-Luc wiped his eyes and shook his head. “My God...that was out of the blue.” Beverly took a deep breath to unknot her stomach muscles. She grinned at her lover, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve never seen you do that Jean-Luc. I liked it; you should do it more often.” He looked at her, his eyes still laughing. He remarked drolly “I don’t think it would help my command style.” That made Beverly laugh again. She clutched her stomach and gasped, “Jean-Luc, stop!” He chuckled and shifted until his back was against the trench wall. He stretched his legs out in front of him and as Beverly continued to chuckle and laugh, he watched her intently, his eyes narrowing. When he spoke, his soft, deep voice carried the unmistakable ring of arousal. “Come here, Beverly.” She looked at Jean-Luc to see him holding out his hand. There was a suspicious bulge in his trousers. Her tongue came out to flick over her lips. She crawled to him, straddled his hips and sat on the bulge. His hooded eyes darkened as he slowly undid the buttons of Beverly’s shirt. Lowering her eyes, she watched as he parted her shirt and tugged up her bra. Her breasts freed, Jean-Luc took them in his hands and hefted them. He watched Beverly intently as her arousal grew, colouring her alabaster skin pink. She closed her eyes and allowed her head to loll back. Jean-Luc pinched her nipples, his breath quickening as Beverly moaned. She was wearing shorts and Jean-Luc found it easy to slide his hand in one baggy leg and under the elastic of her thong. As his fingers began to explore her, Beverly gasped and ground her hips into Jean-Luc’s now throbbing erection. He growled softly and pushed up while inserting two fingers inside her. His thumb found her clit and Beverly mewed in appreciation as he stimulated her. His fingers continued to work their magic as his free hand went to her shorts, tugging them down. Beverly’s eyes snapped open and she quickly moved to one side to rid herself of her shorts and underwear. Before she straddled Jean-Luc again, she undid his fly and eased his pants and briefs down to his thighs. He reached for her and she went willingly. She settled on his erection and he groaned, pushing his hips up. One of his hands went back to her breasts, while the other employed itself in her sex. Beverly began to rock, sliding herself up and down his penis as it lay hard and stiff and hot against his belly. His voice was rough and urgent as he suddenly said, “Put me inside you.” Beverly looked down at him, the look of raw need on his face making her gasp. She rose and lifted his penis, guiding it to her entrance. He couldn’t wait. As soon as he felt his glans nudge into Beverly, he griped her hips and pushed up hard, shoving himself into her. Beverly cried out at the sudden penetration. She couldn’t move; Jean-Luc had pulled her down hard and was holding her tightly. She managed to look at him, surprised to see he had a grimace on his face, his eyes screwed shut. It was then she realised he was trembling. She gently caressed his face, crooning softly, “Relax, my love.” Despite his eyes being tightly shut, two tears appeared and slid down the sides of his face. Still holding her desperately, Jean-Luc struggled for control. Beverly opened his shirt and tenderly caressed his chest and face, continually talking to him in a gentle voice. “It’s all right, Jean-Luc, I’m with you. Try to relax, everything’s all right.” He took a deep, shuddering breath and Beverly felt some of the tension leave his body. He deliberately eased his grip of her hips and managed to open his eyes. Beverly smiled down at him and slowly began to ride him. His breathing was ragged and he shook his head in distress. Beverly stopped what she was doing and bent forward to kiss him. His hands went to her face, the kiss heated and passionate. He suddenly broke the connection and sobbed. Beverly put her mouth near his ear and whispered, “Let yourself go, Jean-Luc. No expectations, no pressure, just do what you want.” She felt him grip her again as he began to thrust up into her. Beverly sat up and placed her hands on his chest. Jean-Luc’s eyes were still closed, prompting Beverly to say softly, “Open your eyes, Jean-Luc. I want you to see me.” With each thrust, Beverly’s breasts bounced provocatively. In his eyes Beverly could see his mounting need. To keep pace with him, she slid one of her hands to her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. Faster and faster he pushed and Beverly stayed with him. When he began to shake his head, Beverly panted, “Don’t hold back! Give yourself to me.” Her urgent words tipped him over the edge. With a guttural cry that ended in a choked sob, Jean-Luc shoved himself deeply into Beverly and came hard. He spasmed as he pulsed causing Beverly to fall into her own orgasm. Her internal muscles milked him rhythmically as they both hung on to the lingering aftershocks. Slowly they calmed. Beverly felt her muscles relax and she opened her eyes to see Jean-Luc quietly weeping. Using her thumb, she wiped away his tears and asked gently, “What is it, my love? Why do you weep?” It took a few moments for Jean-Luc to gather himself. He took a deep, ragged breath and looked up at Beverly, his eyes showing his emotions. “I was overwhelmed, Beverly. Having you here, being able to make love to you whenever I wish after waiting so long...knowing you love me as I love you...it was too much. It snowballed and threatened to swallow me up. I am so fulfilled and I waited so long...” He shook his head helplessly as words failed him. Beverly bent and kissed him, saying softly, “I understand, Jean-Luc. This is a voyage of discovery for both of us. I never thought we would get here and I’m still coming to terms with the reality of you.” Concern shone in his eyes. “But it’s all right, isn’t it?” She smiled radiantly. “It’s more than all right, Jean-Luc; it’s divine! You were right, we are magnificent.” Finally he chuckled, the tension leaving his body. He shook his head ruefully and sighed. “I do love you, Beverly.” She grinned. “I know, and I love you. Now we need to wash.” “There is a river nearby.” Her grin turned wicked. “Care to skinny dip?” He thought about it for only seconds. In answer he pulled her down for a passionate kiss. “And more?” Showing mock shock, Beverly gasped theatrically. “You, my dear Captain are a lecherous old man.” “He grinned wolfishly. “Agreed. Come on, wench, my legs are going to sleep.” Beverly felt happiness she thought long gone. She got to her feet and grinned as Jean-Luc did the same. After hitching up their clothes they walked hand in hand to the river. The days passed lazily, neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly paid much heed to the passage of time; they lived only in the now, deliberately not thinking about the future. They spent their days digging, swimming and making love whenever the whim took them. Two weeks passed and the trench now snaked right across the dig. There was no doubt now, it was headed straight for the mouth of the cave. One evening as they relaxed together after dinner, Jean-Luc brought up what he knew was going to be a contentious subject. Knowing Beverly was watching him, he put down the artefact he had just catalogued and took a deep breath. “I want to explore the underground watercourse.” Her response was quick and predictable. “Too dangerous, Jean-Luc.” “It needn’t be.” He said carefully. “If we take the right equipment and go slowly, I’m sure we’d be all right.” He glanced over at Beverly to see her look of disapproval. “You have no idea what’s down there, Jean-Luc. The whole cave system could be unstable.” Jean-Luc had been in this situation with Beverly many times. They had argued over differences of opinion so often, Jean-Luc had become something of an expert in how to manoeuvre around Beverly’s stubbornness. “We can scan as we go.” She harrumphed. “The scanners don’t work.” Patiently, Jean-Luc remembered to keep his tone light. “They do at close quarters.” “I’m claustrophobic.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Beverly wasn’t really comfortable in enclosed spaces. Jean-Luc knew this and knew what to say to negate it. “You’ll be with me, there will be a light on at all times and we won’t stay too long.” She was beginning to weaken, but true to form, would not give up without a fight. “It’s still too dangerous. I don’t know why you want to go down there, Jean-Luc. Aren’t you occupied with the trench? I bet there’re still some juicy items to be found yet.” Offering a nod of agreement and a smile, Jean-Luc sat back and tried not to look too smug. “It’s for that reason I want to explore the underground river.” He sat forward, excitement shining in his eyes. “Beverly, the seam we’ve been following is an old creek bed. Sometime in the past, there was a significant flood which is why we’re finding so many artefacts, they were washed out of the dwellings and deposited in the creek.” He watched Beverly carefully gauging her mood. “You’ve seen where the trench is heading and I discovered waterworn gravel and rocks in the cave. There is more than a good chance that many quality artefacts were carried into the underground river by the flood. Surely we should at least have a look?” Beverly tried one last protest. “What about the bats?” Jean-Luc was ready for that. “I’ll go into the cave first and scare them all out.” With an annoyed sigh, Beverly capitulated. “Oh, all right. “ She huffed, but she had one more barb. “Jesus, Jean-Luc, you can be so juvenile at times.” He let that pass, content to have won. It wasn’t always like that, more often, Beverly had her way. He smiled to himself. He knew Beverly wouldn’t sulk for long. True enough, a happier Doctor said ten minutes later, “Can I help you catalogue?” Delighted she wished to learn; Jean-Luc nodded enthusiastically and made room on the table. “It would be my pleasure.” They worked contentedly until late then went to bed, Jean-Luc with happy anticipation of the new day’s exploring, Beverly with less than enthusiastic thoughts about the coming adventure. Benar’s companions were becoming restless. They had begun to grumble amongst themselves, fed up with field rations, less than adequate shelter and what seemed to be aimless digging. Hessin kept Benar informed about the group’s mood, making him come to a decision. He gathered the group together and made his announcement. “We will keep working here for one more week, then we will move to the mid archipelago.” An older Cardassian, his cropped black hair streaked with grey, stepped forward. He was taller than was normal for his race and age had given him a slight stoop. “I would speak to you, Commander.” Benar smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yerok, old friend. Please, you may speak.” The elderly man turned slowly, letting his gaze encompass the entire group. “We are tired, Commander. We dig and dig, but we don’t know what it is we are looking for. You said it was something important...life changing, you said, but we have not found it. Can you tell us more? Can you give us a reason to continue?” Benar’s eyes glittered dangerously. “There was a time, Yerok, when my word was enough. Have you forgotten your training? Your discipline?” The aged man shook his head. “No, Commander, I have not, but we are no longer Obsidian Order. We are nothing. We cannot go back to Cardassia, we are persona non grata. Once we wielded great power, now we have no home.” He again looked at his compatriots, gratified when they all nodded their agreement. “What are we doing here, Commander?” There was a time when such boldness would have resulted in death for anyone so foolish as to question their superior. But those days were gone. Benar hoped not forever. Still, a lifetime of severe discipline was hard to forget. Benar glared at Yerok, the Commander’s hand hovering near his disruptor. “You are treading a very fine line, my old friend. Be very careful.” Showing brazen insolence, Yerok shrugged expansively. “I am an old man, Commander, I have lived a very full life. You can take that life...” He shrugged again. “To be brutally honest, I don’t care. I have no home, no family and without the Obsidian Order, I have no purpose, so you will not take much. But my question remains. If you want me...” He looked around him again. “And the others to keep digging...here or elsewhere, then you’re going to have to tell us just what it is we’re looking for.” Benar had never experienced a subordinate showing such blatant disregard for his authority. His hand tightened on the disruptor and began to pull it from its holster. His motion was halted by Hessin’s slender hand. She whispered urgently, “No, Benar, not that.” The Commander was about to slap his lover across the face for daring to interfere, but he stilled his hand as he became aware of an angry rumble coming from the group. His head snapped around and he looked incredulously as the group’s voices rose as one in protest. It was Yerok who calmed them. He then turned his attention back to Benar. “Would you kill us all, Commander? Who will dig for you then?” It took Benar several long seconds to take his hand off his disruptor. Still seething, the Commander said through clenched teeth, “What do you want, Yerok?” The old man shrugged. “Not much, Commander. You tell us what we’re looking for, and we’ll decide if it’s worth our effort.” Benar was furious, but impotent. There was little he could do, but stand there and listen. Years of ingrained habit did not die easily though. “You’ll decide? And just who are you? I am the Commander here, not you, and I make the decisions!” The smile on Yerok’s face was a sad one, but it infuriated Benar even further. “You were our Commander, but not now. Now you have to rely on our good will. We came here because we trusted you, but you’ve betrayed that trust. We’ve been nothing but slave labour to you...a means to an end. But not anymore. Tells us what it is we’re doing here, or you will be digging alone.” Benar was speechless with rage. He quickly drew his disruptor and aimed it directly at Yerok’s head. Everybody froze. In the ensuing silence, Benar clearly heard his blood rushing through the veins in his head. Then, as he watched with disbelief, one-by-one, Yerok’s compatriots moved to stand in front of him. Benar couldn’t believe it. He could barely talk with fury. Still pointing the disruptor he yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. “This is mutiny!” Yerok worked his way through the group and stepped closer to the unstable Benar. His age-wrinkled hand gently closed over the disruptor and freed it from Benar’s shaking grasp. The old man’s voice was gentle when he said, “We work together, as equals, or not at all. No more threats.” Hessin had been watching the drama unfold and she sensed the fine balance that was forming. Taking a huge risk, she placed her hand on Benar’s arm and gently squeezed. “It’s for the best, Benar. Listen to him.” Benar’s eyes slid to her, their coldness making her dread the coming night. She would pay for her betrayal. However, Benar finally relaxed. He took a few deep breaths, briefly closed his eyes then gave a curt nod. To the group he said, “Very well, you seem to have made your point. I acquiesce.” There was a murmur of acknowledgment from the group and tense shoulders relaxed. Benar wiped his hand over his sweaty brow. “You want to know what you’re looking for? Well I’ll tell you what I know.” The group moved forward in anticipation. “But before I tell you, I want to ask you something.” The group moved closer still. “How many of you want Cardassia to rise again? To be the super power she once was? Instead of a people ready to kowtow to anyone in order to eat? We used to TAKE what we wanted! And no one starved! Everyone...even the mighty Federation used to quiver in their boots at the mere mention of Cardassia! Now our brothers and sisters beg for any scraps the Federation can spare! Is this the Cardassia you want?” As one, the group yelled lustily, “NO!” “Then listen carefully. When it became obvious Cardassia’s Military government would fall, certain people laid the foundations for redemption. Those brave and patriotic souls are now dead, but not before they entrusted a select few to carry on their work. I was one of those chosen. To keep the secret, those chosen were not given all the details, that was to come later, but the war moved too quickly and much of the information was lost. However I was told enough to know how to begin.” The group were utterly spellbound. “That is why we are here, on Delos. Hidden somewhere in the ruins is something that will make Cardassia great again. I don’t know what it is, whether or not it’s a weapon or something else...all I know is that I will recognise it when it is found.” Men and women shared glances, some of them uneasy. Yerok lifted his head and scratched his chin. “And once it’s found, what then? Do you become the next leader of our people?” Benar shrugged, full of self-importance. “If that is the will of the people.” An anonymous voice piped up from the group. “I’ve heard most Cardassians want peace. They don’t want another military government.” Benar’s eyes glittered dangerously. “That can change.” The group shifted restlessly before Yerok sighed. “Well what do you think? Do we stay?” The anonymous voice was active again. “It’s not as if we anything else to do.” A wave of chuckles swept through the group. With a decisive nod, Yerok looked up at Benar. “It seems you have convinced us, Commander. We will stay.” Though his grip of command was tenuous at best, Benar was satisfied...for now. He summoned a smile, nodded, then retired to his tent. Jean-Luc came out of the cave, his bald head and shoulders covered in filth, but the bats were gone. Beverly smiled as Jean-Luc bowed and gestured grandly with his arm, beckoning her to enter. She hefted her backpack and swept past him. Her haughtiness was ruined when he slapped her backside. She yelped and glared, but there was no venom in it, besides his rakish grin stole her outrage. Activating their palm beacons, they moved across the short distance to the hole and removed their backpacks. Jean-Luc was all business, his voice carrying the unmistakable ring of authority. With his eyes fixed on the hole he said in clipped tones, “I’ll go first. Once I’m down, feed the backpacks through, then I will assist you.” “Understood, Captain.” He frowned at hearing the edge in Beverly’s voice. He turned to look at her and realised what he’d done. “Sorry, Beverly, I just want to be careful.” Her expression softened and she smiled. “Just as long as you remember we’re on holidays, Jean-Luc. This isn’t a mission, it’s exploring.” His smile was rueful. “I’ll try, my love, I’ll try.” Fortunately for both of them, they were slender enough to wriggle through the hole with little effort. Jean-Luc had fashioned a rope ladder, but the drop was only about three metres. Having set fusing pitons, he dropped the ladder and went through. He didn’t stop to look around, true to his word, he immediately helped Beverly. Once her feet hit the ground she turned and swept her beam. In the light of their torches, Beverly looked around in awe. “Oh, Jean-Luc, it’s beautiful.” They were both standing in freezing cold, crystal clear, knee-deep water. It was fast flowing, tugging at their bare legs, their waterproof boots maintaining a grip on the rock riverbed. Jean-Luc raised his eyes from the water and swept his beacon upwards. The ceiling wasn’t far above their heads, but stalactites hung almost to the river along with chandelier formations of incredible beauty. Beverly turned, sweeping the light around the cavern. The floor was covered in stalagmites, reaching up towards the roof and in places, moulding into their overhead counterparts, forming exquisite columns of coloured calcium carbonate. Beverly waded downstream a little to inspect one of the closer formations. She gently caressed the limestone with her fingers, then rubbed them together. With her eyes still on the spike of soft rock, she raised her voice to be heard over the running water. “It’s wet.” Jean-Luc joined her and nodded. “Yes, the process of formation is still working.” Beverly’s voice was breathless with awe. “How old they must be.” Nodding again, Jean-Luc’s eyes were looking elsewhere. “Yes, very old. Come, Beverly, I want to look downstream.” She frowned, wanting to stay in the magical cavern. “Why, Jean-Luc, it’s so lovely here.” Her gentle tone reminded him of why they were there. He brought his attention back to Beverly and took a moment to simply watch her as she admired the formations. Silently he said reverentially “Gods, but you are beautiful, my love.” Sensing his gaze, Beverly turned to Jean-Luc and smiled tenderly. Undone, He went to her and kissed her with tender passion. A surprised Beverly tilted her head and asked softly, “Jean-Luc?” He shook his head and smiled. “Nothing.” Not fully convinced, Beverly narrowed her eyes. “No, really. What is it?” He shrugged, his smile broadening. “I love you, that’s all.” That brought a wide smile to the Doctor. “I love you too. Aren’t these formations wonderful?” Shaking his head at her capriciousness, Jean-Luc gently reached out and touched the nearest spike. “Yes they are.” They stood together for some minutes just admiring the view before Beverly sighed, turned to Jean-Luc and gave a curt nod. “Right, you’ve indulged me enough. You want to go downstream?” Brought out of his thoughts, Jean-Luc blinked. “Ah, yes. If there are any obstructions in the flow, that’s where we might find some artefacts.” “Caught and held fast you mean?” He nodded. “Yes. It’s a long shot; so much time has passed. This river would have flooded many times over the centuries, but we might get lucky.” Squinting into the darkness, Beverly muttered, “Ever the optimist, eh, Jean-Luc?” With a snort, the Captain aimed his light down the course of the river. It went into a tunnel, the inky blackness engulfing the light completely. Beverly swallowed convulsively and said, “We’re going in there?” Jean-Luc tightened his grip of her hand and nodded. “Uh huh.” With as much calmness as she could muster, Beverly said with forced lightness, “Lead on McDuff!” Jean-Luc Knew Beverly was frightened, but he had to admire her pluck. To ease her fears he didn’t linger. “Come on, mind your head.” They stooped as they entered the tunnel, travelling approximately fifty metres before Beverly suddenly spoke. “Jean-Luc, look at the glowing lights.” He could see that Beverly’s light was on the river, as was his, but Beverly was looking up. His eyes slid upwards and he saw what Beverly had seen. Tiny yellow lights festooned the low ceiling. As Jean-Luc watched in delight, he realised they were moving. He swung his light up and smiled. “Glow flies.” Nervously, Beverly asked, “Do they bite?” Jean-Luc shrugged. “I don’t know. Best not touch them, just in case.” Giving the glowing insects a suspicious look, Beverly ran her finger through her hair. “As long as they leave me alone.” Jean-Luc knew what was worrying her and smiled. His lack of hair came in handy sometimes. “Don’t worry, Beverly, I’m sure they don’t want to get lost in your lovely hair.” Reminding her of her fear didn’t go down too well. With a brusque snort, Beverly said testily, “Let’s just keep going, okay?” Knowing silence was probably his best strategy, Jean-Luc stepped ahead and led Beverly down the river. They heard the obstruction before they saw it. They quickened their pace and soon found the source of the sound. A finger of rock partially blocked the river. The water backed up before eventually breaching the barrier and continuing down the tunnel. As the intrepid pair approached, the water got deeper. Jean-Luc took his backpack off and put it on a dry bit of the rock finger. As she did the same, Beverly watched as Jean-Luc plunged the waterproof palm beacon under the water. She craned her neck and peered into the swirling current. “See anything?” Jean-Luc said absently, “There’s a bed of gravel that’s built up at the base of the rock.” Using his booted foot, Jean-Luc scraped away the top layer, making the water opaque with fine silt. “Damn!”, He growled. They had to wait a few minutes before the water was once again clear. The water was up to their stomachs and it was very cold. While they had been walking it wasn’t so bad, but now they were standing still, the cold began to permeate their muscles. “What now?” In response, Jean-Luc suddenly plunged into the water. He stayed submerged for about a minute before he surfaced, gasping and spluttering. In his left hand was an object. He was shivering violently, causing Beverly to bark, “Right! We’re out of here. Can you walk?” His teeth chattering, Jean-Luc managed to nod. Beverly grabbed both backpacks and together they pushed against the current and made their way back to the hole. By the time they reached the rope ladder, Jean-Luc was blue and Beverly was shivering violently. Beverly gripped Jean-Luc’s shoulder, saying through chattering teeth, “Can you climb up?” He shook his head and when he spoke, his voice was slurred. “I don’t know.” Beverly glanced at his left hand which still clutched the artefact. She held out her hand. “Give that to me.” Jean-Luc raised his hand, but couldn’t loosen his grip. Beverly saw his difficulty and gently prised his fingers open. The object fell, but Beverly caught it. She paid it no further notice, instead concentrating on the dangerously hypothermic Captain. One at a time, she placed his hands on the ropes, then stood behind him. “Try, Jean-Luc, I’ll help you.” She didn’t know if the rope ladder could support both of them, but she had to try. Jean-Luc’s movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, but he managed to slowly climb. Beverly was behind him, the grip of her right hand precarious as she still had the artefact. She had slung the backpacks over one shoulder and wondered if she should drop then, however, as she looked up, she could see Jean-Luc beginning to make his way through the hole. He was having difficulties, so Beverly took a step down the ladder and put her shoulder under Jean-Luc’s backside. With a steady push she helped him wriggle through. The backpacks went next, then Beverly eased her body through. Jean-Luc was lying on the cave floor, very still. Leaving the backpacks and the artefact, Beverly went to him and began to hoist him to his feet, saying through her panting breath, “Come on, Jean-Luc, help me!” He tried, but was rapidly losing any semblance of control over his limbs. Beverly draped his arm across her shoulders and staggered as Jean-Luc slumped against her. Thankful she didn’t have to go far, Beverly half dragged her burden out into the hot sunshine. She gently lowered Jean-Luc to the ground, then quickly divested him of his wet clothing. Once his naked body was fully exposed to the sunshine, Beverly began to rub the surface of his skin. The exertion help to warm her, but her lover wasn’t so lucky. He was still blue, and semi-conscious. Frantic, Beverly undressed with haste and covered Jean-Luc with her warming body. She continued to rub any of his skin she could reach and was rewarded fifteen minutes later when Jean-Luc softly moaned. She studied his face and noted he wasn’t so blue. Another ten minutes passed and she began to feel warmth slowly come back to his skin. His eyes opened and he started to shiver. Beverly moved off him and let the sun finish warming him. Slowly his shivers subsided and he sighed. Beverly sat up and shook her head. “That was a damned fool thing to do, Jean-Luc. What the hell were you thinking? That river was far too cold for full emersion.” The Captain swallowed and slowly sat up. “I had to know, Beverly. After all, that’s what we were there for.” “Was it worth risking your life? We should never have been in that river, it was too bloody cold. I should have said something.” A residual shudder swept through Jean-Luc and he rubbed his arms. Beverly saw what was happening and stood, holding out her hand. “Come on, you need to put some clothes on.” Taking her hand, Jean-Luc gained his feet, but instead of following Beverly to the tent, Jean-Luc made for the cave. Beverly looked over her shoulder, expecting to see her lover’s face, but instead she saw his retreating backside. She called out, thinking he was still confused. “Hey! Where are you going, Jean-Luc?” He glanced over his shoulder, then pointed in front of him. “I’m going to get the artefact.” Beverly was incensed. She turned and quickened her pace, soon catching the ambling Captain. She gripped his shoulder and spun him around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her face was flushed and her eyes glittered dangerously. Jean-Luc frowned, somewhat annoyed. “I told you. I’m going to get the artefact.” Beverly’s anger went up a notch. “Oh no you’re not! Come with me!” She grabbed his arm and began to tug him towards the tent. Now angry himself, Jean-Luc pulled his arm free. Beverly’s head snapped around and they glared at each other. Through clenched teeth, Beverly enunciated each word as she said succinctly, “You...need...to...get...dressed. Your...core...temperature...isn’t...back...to...normal...yet.” Furious at being spoken to in such a manner, Jean-Luc’s voice was deceptively soft, a sure sign of towering anger. His expression unreadable he said coldly, “I’m fine, Doctor.” Exasperated as well as angry, Beverly shouted, “You almost died, Jean-Luc!” Hearing the fear in her voice, Jean-Luc frowned and some of his anger subsided. He changed his tone to something milder as he said, “Surely you’re exaggerating, Beverly. You got a fright, that’s all.” For someone who knew Beverly so well, it was a staggering mistake. He had grossly underestimated just how angry she was and how badly she had been frightened. She all but screeched, “You fucking idiot!” The slap to Jean-Luc’s face echoed sharply around the dig. A shocked Captain blinked at his lover, his hand going slowly to his flaming cheek. Beverly fisted her hands at her sides, tears filling her eyes. In a broken voice she said, “You nearly died, Jean-Luc. You developed hypothermia very quickly. You only just made it out of the river in time. I thought...I thought...” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Finally seeing what he’d done, Jean-Luc went to her and enfolded her in his arms, saying softly, “I’m sorry, Beverly, I’m so sorry.” She sobbed brokenly, her arms going around Jean-Luc to hug him tight. He held her, closing his eyes as he weathered the storm. Eventually Beverly was reduced to hiccupping and sniffing. With her head resting on Jean-Luc’s shoulder, she said quietly, “I thought you were going to die, Jean-Luc. I panicked...the thought of losing you...I...” He took her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. Gently he said, “It’s all right, Beverly, I’m safe. You saved me again.” Still upset, Beverly tried to shake her head, but Jean-Luc wouldn’t let her. “So close, Jean-Luc...you came so close.” “But it didn’t happen, my love. You knew what to do...you saved me.” They stood in each other’s arms, two naked people alone on a far-away planet, trying to find their equilibrium. Slowly Beverly calmed and looked at her lover. He was gratified to see a lopsided smile. “You still need to get dressed.” He returned her smile. “So do you.” Beverly stepped back and gave Jean-Luc’s body a frank appraisal. “You’ve got your colour back.” He risked a shrug. “I told you, I’m fine.” Irritation flashed in Beverly’s eyes, but she took the glib remark for what it was, her lover reverting to form. Jean-Luc held out his hand and Beverly took it. Together they walked back to the tent. Benar had been cruel to Hessin, the marks of his anger clear to see. She had thought she might temper his residual anger with her carnal skill, but he wanted to punish her for her betrayal. It was a long night for Hessin, the morning not coming soon enough to save her from a night of prolonged pain. Benar had been up an hour before the woman limped from the shelter. Most of the damage was to her body, but her face bore the evidence of Benar’s displeasure as well. As she slowly approached the dig, Yerok peered at her and shook his head silently. It was one thing to challenge Benar over the dig, it was quite another to mention his private life. He watched under his brow as Hessin stiffly picked up a trowel and slowly sank to her knees. Benar watched her too, his face contorted by a cruel sneer. Years of the Obsidian Order and their inhuman credo had inured Benar to any semblance of morality. He had lost count of the number of poor souls he had tortured, most to death. He had lost the capacity for either sympathy or love. He had entertained many women in his bed; most of them as cruel as he, but Hessin was still relatively young. She had only been in the Obsidian Order a matter of two years when the organisation was disbanded; not enough time to lose her humanity. Benar knew she loved him but, perversely, it only served to make him more cruel towards her. It didn’t matter to him if she loved him or not; there was always another woman to take her place. He certainly felt nothing for her, other than lust. With a final, cold look in her direction, Benar went back to his digging. He had more important things on his mind. Six more days here, then he would move everyone to the mid archipelago. Failure to locate the mystery thing at his present location didn’t faze Benar; in fact it only made him more excited. If it wasn’t here, it must be at the other island group. He was a patient man, his patience acquired by learning the process of torture. The trick was to inflict excruciating pain without killing the victim. He had quickly become an expert. He looked up briefly and nodded to himself. Given enough time and a malleable crew, he would find whatever it was he sought. He was sure of it. Beverly had prevented Jean-Luc from retrieving the artefact from the cave for the rest of the day. After they had dressed, Beverly insisted they both drink a large cup of hot tea. Jean-Luc had to admit he felt better for it, but it wasn’t until Beverly had thoroughly scanned him did she allow him to go back to the dig. It was very hot outside the air conditioned tent. After an hour of intense digging, Jean-Luc removed his shirt and used it to wipe his sweaty face. Working only a few metres away, Beverly saw him and muttered, “Don’t get burnt.” He was already quite tanned and, as he stood to move some rocks, Beverly had to admire his physique. Although into his late seventies, Jean-Luc was trim, well muscled and quite beautiful. Dressed only in shorts, socks and boots, he cut a very handsome figure. Beverly licked her lips and said softly, “Flex.” Jean-Luc’s head came up and he frowned. “I beg your pardon?” Beverly sat up and put her hands on her hips. “I said, flex.” His frown deepened. “Flex what?” With a sigh, Beverly raised her fists to her head and flexed her biceps. Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.” Somewhat embarrassed, Jean-Luc flexed his arms, making Beverly purr in appreciation. He was about to stop when she said in that same soft voice. “And your stomach.” He was going to refuse, but the look in her eyes spurred him. Beverly’s eyes travelled over him and she slowly stood. “Don’t forget your legs.” Feeling vaguely ridiculous, Jean-Luc obeyed. He watched with hawk-like intensity as Beverly slowly walked to him. She came to a stop nose-to-nose with him. He felt her fingers lightly touch the top of his head. He was about to relax when Beverly said sultrily, “Don’t stop.” As he continued to tense his muscles, Beverly’s fingers travelled down from his head to linger a while on his chest, dallying in his body hair. Then they moved over the bulges of his wash board stomach. Jean-Luc’s eyes had darkened with anticipation as her caresses moved towards his growing erection, but she ignored the protuberance in his shorts and moved her fingers down to his thighs. She shifted closer, their bodies nearly touching. The effort of continually flexing had made Jean-Luc begin to tremble slightly. Beverly whispered softly in his ear, “You are in excellent shape my love.” He blinked and clenched his jaw as the strain was beginning to become painful. Still Beverly’s fingers played over his shivering muscles. She stepped back and looked at him with hooded eyes, noting the fine sheen of sweat covering his golden skin. Seeing he was at his limit, she stepped closer, reached up and took his hands. She gently lowered his arms, saying softly, “Relax.” He let out a long breath and reached for her, but she shook her head. “No, my love. You’re not up to that kind of exertion today.” He growled and took her face in his hands, kissing her with raw passion. It left Beverly breathless. “Does that feel weak to you?” He asked in his deep mellifluous voice. Beverly had to muster all her willpower to resist him. She said unevenly, “Jean-Luc, you nearly died a few hours ago.” Staring intently into her eyes he rumbled softly, “What better way to celebrate life?” Beverly began to rally her forces. “No, my love, you really mustn’t exert yourself too much.” He frowned and silently looked down at his erection, then back at Beverly. “So just what do you expect me to do with that?” She smiled brightly. “I have an idea.” Tilting his head slightly, he raised one eyebrow. “And what is that?” Beverly placed her hands on his shoulders. “Lie down and I’ll show you.” It wasn’t what he wanted, but he suspected he wasn’t going to be disappointed. As Beverly watched, Jean-Luc lay down. Beverly knelt between his legs and undid his shorts. “Now what have we here?” As she slid his shorts and briefs down his thighs his penis sprung free, slapping softly against his belly. A well-endowed man, Jean-Luc was grateful Beverly was able to do this for him, some of his past lovers baulked at oral sex, he was simply too large. Using both her hands, Beverly lifted him, then looked down the length of Jean-Luc’s body to find him watching her. She smiled and licked her lips, making Jean-Luc lift his hips. She leaned forward and lightly touched the head with the tip of her tongue. Jean-Luc’s face was a study in concentration. His eyes were hooded and dark, his gaze intense and unwavering. Beverly felt a heady rush of power as she held him. He wouldn’t come until she let him, she controlled everything. It was a measure of their trust in each other that they indulged in this particular act. Opening her mouth wide, Beverly took as much of him into her as she could. Jean-Luc’s eyes shut and he thrust upwards, groaning softly as Beverly’s tongue feathered over his shaft. She gently massaged his testicles as she let him slide from her mouth, keeping just the head in her mouth. Her tongue played with the slit, then circled the rim, eliciting another groan from her lover. She gripped him at the base and decided not to tease him too much. Taking pity on him, she applied herself diligently to her task. Faster and faster she slid her mouth up and down his penis, all the time pulling his testicles down and feeling them swell. Suddenly he stiffened even more and Beverly knew his climax was near. She gently squeezed his testicles, took him deeply inside her mouth and inserted her little finger into his anus. He erupted. As he came he lifted his hips, pushing his penis past Beverly’s mouth and into her throat. He shouted her name, his fingers tangling in Beverly’s hair as he pushed her head down. Beverly concentrated on relaxing her throat so she could take all of him. She swallowed his semen and waited patiently until Jean-Luc began to relax. His penis softened and she let it slip from her mouth. With a tender kiss to the tip, she laid it on his belly and watched as Jean-Luc slowly opened his eyes. His voice was rough as he said, “That was wonderful, Beverly. Thank you.” She grinned and wiped her thumb over her lips, making Jean-Luc growl. He propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head. “That wasn’t exertion?” With a shrug, Beverly cocked her head. “Well, not as much as it might have been.” He sat up properly and reached for her. She went willingly, mewing with pleasure as he rumbled in her ear, “Your turn.” Slipping out of his grasp, Beverly stood and winked. As Jean-Luc watched with growing interest, Beverly stripped. She returned to his lap naked and ready. Taking her legs in his hands, he parted them and encouraged Beverly to straddle him. He looked down to see her labia parted, pink and wet. His eyes travelled over body, marvelling at how svelte and beautiful she was. Once his eyes met hers, he gently slid his fingers through her folds, smiling as she moaned sensuously. “You’re so wet, Beverly. What would you like me to do, hmm?” He pushed two fingers inside her. “Would you like me to do that?” Beverly’s hands fisted in Jean-Luc’s Shirt. She opened her mouth and groaned, “Oh, God, yes!” He slid two more fingers into her and began to slothfully slide them in and out. Beverly’s hips started to buck in rhythm with his fingers. Jean-Luc loved doing this for Beverly, almost as much as he loved making love to her. The sight of her, the smell, it was enough to make him hard again. As his erection grew under her, Beverly gasped and looked down. All she could say was, “Oh...oh...” Jean-Luc suddenly ground his thumb against her clit. Beverly arched her back, her breath hissing through her clenched teeth. Jean-Luc felt her begin to contract around his fingers but, rather than letting her come, he abruptly leaned forward and laid her on the ground. Before she could protest, he covered her with his body and entered her in one long, hard shove. Beverly craned her head back and let out a protracted howl. With the creamy column of her neck exposed, Jean-Luc bit her as he began to thrust hard and fast. It was frantic sex, hot and passionate. Neither was surprised when they came suddenly, their bodies locked in a tight, intimate embrace. Sometime later, Beverly sighed under the weight of Jean-Luc’s relaxed body. He lifted his head and kissed his way from the bloody bite mark on her neck to her lips. They shared a long, tired kiss before Beverly remarked, “You weren’t supposed to do that.” Lifting his head further, Jean-Luc looked down and frowned. “It’s your fault.” “Mine?” Said Beverly incredulously. “Why mine? Everything was going swimmingly until you lost control.” He shook his head. “Oh no...you pushed me over the brink. You know I can’t resist you when I see you in the throes of sexual bliss. Jesus, Beverly, just the smell of you is enough. I had to have you...and you know it!” She sighed again and gave a nod. “I should’ve known better. With a libido like yours, anything is possible.” He was outraged. “A libido like mine? What about yours? Gods, woman, you’re insatiable!” Beverly chuckled. “As are you, Jean-Luc.” He smiled and they kissed again. He would have happily stayed there for the rest of his life, but Beverly had other ideas. “Come on you great lump of a man, get off me, you’re squashing me.” He snorted and climbed to his feet, grouching, “How romantic of you, Beverly.” She smiled and gave him a kiss to repair the damage. She then sighed and shook her head. “It was irresponsible of me though.” She stepped past Jean-Luc but he caught her with one strong arm and kissed her under her ear. “I’m not complaining.” Beverly laughed softly. “You wouldn’t complain about that, Jean-Luc.” He nodded and kissed her again. “True, but look at it this way. I’m nice and warm. Toasty, in fact.” That made Beverly laugh louder. “You’re incorrigible.” He nodded again, his amusement obvious. “Agreed. Now what? A Swim?” She stepped back and gaped. “You’ve got to be joking! I’ll swim, you can sit on the bank.” He sighed. “Oh, very well. But I can ogle, can’t I?” Bowing her head at his absurdity, Beverly lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay, you can ogle. I’ll try and give you a good show.” He held up his index finger. “Not too good, or I’ll be joining you in the river.” Walking away, Beverly said over her shoulder, “Haven’t you had enough of rivers for one day?” He chuckled and hastened to catch her. “Not if it means making love to you again.” Beverly shook her head. “Incorrigible, definitely incorrigible.” Jean-Luc slapped her bare behind and guffawed. Much later that night, in the bed they had made on the floor, they made love again, this time slowly. Afterwards, lying in each other’s arms, Beverly gently ran her fingers over Jean-Luc’s patrician features and asked softly, “How much longer will we stay here, Jean-Luc?” His eyes mere slits, he sighed and moved to kiss her languidly. “Mmm, I’m still not sure.” Beverly returned the kiss, then spent some time tracing the steadily pulsing blood vessel in his neck. Jean-Luc’s eyes drifted shut. “Okay. How about the Enterprise? Are we going back?” His eyes opened and he blinked. “We? Beverly...are you considering resigning?” She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not going to let you go, Jean-Luc. If you resign, so will I.” He pulled back slightly to see her better. His face showed his concern. “But Beverly...your career.” Her smile faded as she watched him. “What about yours, Jean-Luc?” He frowned and said carefully, “Beverly, I have been a Captain for a very long time, maybe it’s time I retired. But you, you’re at the height of your career, you have so much in front of you.” “Which is pointless unless I’m with you. Don’t you see, Jean-Luc? I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Propping himself up on one elbow, Jean-Luc shook his head. “But...” Beverly lifted herself too, meeting his worried gaze with steady determination. “But nothing. I can be a Doctor anywhere, Jean-Luc. The important thing is that we stay together, whatever comes.” As she held his gaze, an errant thought occurred. She swallowed nervously and asked softly, “That is, of course, if you want us to stay together.” To reassure her, Jean-Luc cupped her jaw in his large hand and kissed her with all the love he felt. When he pulled back, Beverly’s eyes were closed. What he whispered next made her eyes snap open and a small gasp to escape her lips. “Marry me, my love.” Beverly lifted her hand to run her thumb over his lower lip. She blinked away an errant tear and smiled lopsidedly. “Are you sure, Jean-Luc?” She could clearly see the earnestness in his eyes. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, Beverly. Complete me, please.” For several long seconds they gazed into each other’s eyes. Beverly gave a slight nod, making Jean-Luc tilt his head and ask, “Are you saying yes?” She smiled and the nod became more pronounced. Her whispered, “Yes.” Caused Jean-Luc to kiss her again. Beverly wasn’t surprised to find him weeping softly. She gently caressed his face, saying softly, “Don’t weep, my love, be happy.” He gained some control and smiled through his tears. “Oh, Beverly, mon amour, I am more than happy! I have dreamt of this, Beverly, for so long I have wanted you...loved you...” He sighed deeply. “Needed you.” His arm encircled her, drawing her closer. “And now you are mine.” They kissed and made love again and later they slept. Three days later, Jean-Luc was happily digging, more artefacts piling up beside him, when he caught the last words of Cardassian chatter on his communicator. He froze and concentrated, a deep frown marring his handsome face. Luckily the Cardassians hadn’t finished their conversation. “...in three days.” “So it’s not here?” “Seems to be the case. Benar is confident we’ll find it in the other archipelago.” “Then why wait three days to move?” “He wants to be absolutely sure it’s not here.” “And the ship?” “Still in the moon’s crater. He can bring it in anytime.” “Well I for one won’t miss this dust bowl. I could do with a change of scenery.” “Me too. Still, we’re in for more digging.” “Beats the alternative.” “True, you can’t dig if you’re dead.” “He’s coming, I’m going to close. “Understood.” There was a subtle click as the channel was terminated. Cursing softly, Jean-Luc shook his head with annoyance. He had allowed himself to be lulled into complacency. He was so happy and contented, he had all but forgotten the Cardassians and the threat they posed. He was brought brutally back into reality. Their idyll was over. He stood and walked over to Beverly, admiring her pile of artefacts despite the circumstances. She looked up with a smile on her face, but his expression soon stole it. “What is it, Jean-Luc?” He hunkered down beside her and looked into her eyes. “The Cardassians are coming.” Beverly straightened, all business. “When?” “Three days.” She got to her feet, her eyes distant. “Right, I’ll start to pack; you bring the Calypso in. We can begin to beam everything up.” His hand on her forearm made her look at him quizzically. His next words left her dumbfounded. “I’m not ready to leave yet, Beverly.” She frowned, not fully understanding. “What?” Stepping closer, he took her hands in his. “I don’t want to leave.” Still not quite believing what she was hearing, Beverly tilted her head, and tried to understand. “Jean-Luc, the Cardassians are coming. We have to leave.” Offering a slight smile, Jean-Luc said softly, “I want you to leave, Beverly. You take the yacht and get out of this system. I’ll wait it out here and you can come back and join me once the Cardassians have gone.” She looked at him aghast. “Are you insane?” She squinted at him and raised her hand to count on her fingers. “Two things, Jean-Luc. One; I’m not going to leave you and two; the Cardassians will find you.” He shook his head and, with a sinking feeling, Beverly realised he’d already made his mind up. “No, my love. You must leave. I’ll be fine.” Anger began to surface in the mercurial redhead. “Just how long have you been thinking about this, Jean-Luc?” In the face of her growing anger, Jean-Luc was resolute. “Ever since I found out the Cardassians were on the planet.” Her voice was tight; barely controlled. “And you never told me?” His position was untenable, but he stubbornly stuck to his plan. “Beverly, you must listen to me. This will work, I know it will.” The Doctor didn’t know which was worse; his blind faith in his plan, or his belief she would go along with it. She shook her head vehemently and shouted him down when he tried to say something. “No! We’re going to leave now!” Jean-Luc couldn’t believe his ears. Didn’t she hear him? She had never defied him so completely before. Speaking as if to a child, Jean-Luc said carefully, “Now, Beverly, you don’t mean that.” It was a terrible mistake. With her face congested with blood, Beverly grabbed Jean-Luc’s shoulders and shook him violently. “You’re coming with me if I have to sedate you!” Jean-Luc twisted so suddenly to break her grasp he lost his footing. With flailing arms, he toppled backwards, hitting the side of the trench. It caused a minor earth slide, the dirt covering his legs as he sprawled on the floor of the trench. Angry, he looked up at Beverly, ready to berate her, but something caught the corner of his eye. He glanced quickly at the anomalous glint, then froze, his anger forgotten. Even as furious as she was, Beverly noticed the change in Jean-Luc. She tilted her head and asked warily, “What?” Rising to his knees and with his eyes glued on the source of his attention, Jean-Luc said absently, “Bring me my trowel.” Beverly knew by the tone of his voice that his request was important. She immediately obeyed him. Once he had the trowel in his hand, Jean-Luc began to carefully unearth the object. Beverly sank to her knees beside him, saying softly, “What is it?” He answered as he worked, still distracted. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think it should be here.” Beverly knew further questions were superfluous, so she contained her curiosity and watched as Jean-Luc went about his task. It took a long fifteen minutes before the object was free of the compacted earth. It was some kind of metal, partially encasing a large, oval crystal. Jean-Luc used his hands to wipe off the residual dirt, then turned it over. What he saw made him gasp. Beverly gripped his arm, asking urgently, “What? What do you see?” Pointing with a trembling hand, Jean-Luc replied, “Cardassian! This is a Cardassian object!” Beverly tried to understand. “Wait...it’s not Hebician?” Jean-Luc shook his head, wariness in his eyes. “No, definitely not.” Almost to himself he muttered, “This must be what they were talking about.” Then he realised Beverly had heard him. “Who? What were they talking about?” Tearing his eyes away from the object, Jean-Luc braced himself for another tirade. “I have just recently discovered why the Cardassians are here, on Delos.” Beverly interrupted him. “But we know that...they’re excavating the other ruins.” Jean-Luc sighed and shook his head. “We were wrong, Beverly. They weren’t excavating for scientific research, they were looking for a specific thing.” He lifted his hands and Beverly’s eyes dropped to the object. She tentatively pointed. “That?” Jean-Luc nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” His excitement was infectious. Eagerly Beverly asked, “So what is it?” Grinning foolishly, Jean-Luc laughed and shook his head. “I’ve no idea!” They both broke into giggles, then outright laughter, the tension between them of only minutes before forgotten. Eventually, Jean-Luc regained control of himself and, through pants of breath, said “Tricorder, Beverly, I need a tricorder.” Still shaking with residual laughter, Beverly rose to her feet and went the short distance to Jean-Luc’s backpack. She was back in mere moments. She looked on enthusiastically while Jean-Luc deployed the device and scanned the mystery object. Her eyes sharpened as Jean-Luc whispered reverently, “Good God!” Beverly’s eyes slid quickly between the object and Jean-Luc incredulous face. The tension was palpable as she waited for him to speak. “This is incredible, Beverly...utterly astounding!” Impatient, Beverly shook her head, asking urgently, “What is it?!” He held it up and looked at it with awe. “With this, I can destroy a star.” Stunned, Beverly whispered, “How?” Jean-Luc shook his head, still not believing what the tricorder had revealed. “This...thing...has the ability to make a star...any star...exceed its Chandrasaka limit.” “And what is that?” Jean-Luc couldn’t take his eyes off the object. “That is where a star’s mass exceeds one point four solar masses. This device causes the star’s core to synthesise into more than one point four solar masses of iron. Iron is a death sentence for stars. That causes a catastrophic chain reaction, ending with a super nova and the ultimate death of the star.” Beverly gaped incredulously and pointed at the device. “That thing can cause all that?” Jean-Luc nodded, finally out of words. He whispered with growing dread, “A doomsday device.” Suddenly their predicament became clear. Jean-Luc shook off his awe and started to think clearly. “Under no circumstances must this device fall into Cardassian hands.” Beverly nodded decisively. “Agreed. We leave, now.” Jean-Luc shook his head. “No, wait...think about it, Beverly. If we’re caught, this...” He held up the device. “Falls into Cardassian hands.” “All the more reason to leave immediately!” Patiently, Jean-Luc continued to explain. “But if we leave now the Cardassians are going to know we’ve been here! Look around you, Beverly, it’s obvious someone has been excavating and very recently. If we suddenly leave, the Cardassians are going to correctly surmise we’ve found something so important we had to quit the dig instantly and hightail it back to Federation space. Do you really think they’d let us make it? Remember Federation space is five days away at maximum warp.” Beverly shook her head, her urge to flee strong. “How would they know we were from the Federation?” “Logic. This was Federation dig. I know of no one else who’s been remotely interested in it. Besides, the Cardassian scanners will tell them of the traces we leave behind. Human traces, Beverly.” A feeling of dread spread through Beverly’s chest. “So what do you propose?” Jean-Luc’s voice carried his urgency. “We have three days. In that time, we put back all the artefacts and return the dig to how I found it. I contact Command and request a ship be sent to wait for us in Federation space. Then we decamp and use the Calypso to beam us to another island. There we hide. Once the Cardassians give up on their quest they will leave, affording us the opportunity to escape.” Beverly frowned, shaking her head. “But that could take weeks!” Jean-Luc asked mildly, “Do you have a better plan?” She was stumped. Forlornly she uttered, “No.” Jean-Luc began to walk towards the tent. “Then we’d best make a start, we have a lot of work ahead of us if we’re to succeed.” Beverly followed him, shaking her head worriedly. What Jean-Luc had suggested was a mammoth task and it required both of them to work around the clock. Thankfully, Jean-Luc’s meticulous cataloguing had made putting the artefacts back not so difficult, but the amount of soil to be replaced was daunting. Beverly marvelled at just how much had been moved, considering most of it had been shifted with little else but a trowel and bare hands. It was almost midday the next day when fatigue began to set in. At Beverly’s insistence, they took it in turns to have a short nap. Thus invigorated, they were able to continue with their work at a brisk pace, but they were fighting an uphill battle against the need for sleep. They relied heavily on their training, which had prepared them well for the many times they had been on duty for an extended period of time. As Captain and CMO, they were often required to stay at their posts for a long time, where other, less senior crewmembers would be relieved by another. But still, as the hours passed, the sheer constant physical effort needed ate at their stamina. Jean-Luc kept an eye on Beverly as the night wore on. He knew what she lacked in physical strength she made up for with formidable determination, but that had its down side as he knew she would push herself well beyond her limits, to the point where she would harm herself, rather than stop and give in to rest. Under the harsh light of their lamps, he saw Beverly stumble. She valiantly tried to keep her balance, but she was too exhausted. Her legs gave way and she went down heavily on her knees. Jean-Luc stopped what he was doing and went to her, hearing her softly cursing as he got near. “Here, let me help you.” Beverly waved away his offered hands and got to her feet, but she staggered again and would’ve fallen if not for Jean-Luc’s steadying hand. She lifted her head defiantly and strove for a strong voice. “I’m okay, Jean-Luc, you can go back to what you were doing.” Ignoring her, Jean-Luc looked down at the blood trickling down her legs. “You need to clean up those scapes. Come on, I’ll help you.” Beverly frowned and looked at him with confused eyes. “What?” He didn’t bother to repeat himself. Instead he led her to the tent, sat her down and retrieved the med kit. He found Beverly staring down at her bloody knees. “They sting.” He nodded as he gently wiped up the blood, then carefully cleaned the scrapes. Once the tissue regenerator had done its job there was little to see of the injuries except for some pinkish skin. Taking Beverly by the elbow, he steered her to their bed and encouraged her to lie down. He covered her with a blanket, then gently pushed her hair off her face. Softly he said, “Sleep, Beverly.” Her eyes drooped, but she fought the incessant urge to sleep. She looked up at Jean-Luc and weakly protested. “But we have to get the work done.” Jean-Luc smiled and gently stroked her hair. “I’ll keep going...you can help me once you’ve got some sleep.” She wanted to argue, but she was simply too tired. She closed her eyes, meaning to gather her thoughts, but the instant her eyes closed, sleep claimed her. Jean-Luc felt her relax and nodded to himself. “Sleep well, my love.” Going back outside, he surveyed the dig, illuminated by the powerful lights and sighed. He had a lot to do. Jean-Luc worked non-stop through the night and, as dawn broke, he began to lose coordination. His hands refused to work and he kept dropping things. He recognised the signs of sleep deprivation, but ignored it. He had to keep going. It wasn’t until he fell flat on his face two hours later that he finally conceded he had to sleep. Having come to that conclusion, he tumbled immediately into a deep sleep, his body sprawled face down in the dirt. Beverly stretched as she rose from sleep. Her eyes opened and, for an instant, she didn’t know where she was, but she quickly remembered and made haste in leaving the tent. She urgently needed to relieve herself, but first she wanted to check on her lover. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she looked for Jean-Luc and frowned when she didn’t immediately see him, but a closer inspection of the site made her gasp. “Oh no! Jean-Luc!” She ran to his unmoving form and quickly pressed her fingers against the skin of his neck. His pulse was steady and strong, causing Beverly to sit on her backside and let out a long sigh of relief. Jean-Luc stirred and lifted his head. One side of his face was covered in dirt and dust, some of it in his mouth. As he felt the grit on his tongue and teeth, he screwed his face up in disgust and spat several times. Beverly watched as Jean-Luc climbed stiffly to his feet. She placed a gentle hand on his arm and asked , “How long did you sleep?” He looked up, squinting against the strong sunlight as he attempted to measure the passage of time. He sighed. “At least four hours.” “Not enough, Jean-Luc.” Shrugging, he looked around the dig. “It will have to do. How do you feel?” Beverly brushed the question aside. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” With a curt nod, Jean-Luc turned, saying over his shoulder, “Then it’s back to work.” The red head watched her lover for a few seconds before she went to relieve herself. She then re-joined Jean-Luc as they bent to their tasks. Although they had been drinking water regularly, they hadn’t eaten for nearly two days. It was early evening, one night and a day to go when Beverly left the dig and disappeared inside the tent. Jean-Luc didn’t see her go, but he smelled her return. The aroma of hot food made his mouth water involuntarily. He lifted his head and smiled. They ate in silence, too tired for conversation. With their stomachs full, sleep threatened, but they savagely quashed their need and pressed on. They were finally beginning to get ahead. Jean-Luc straightened his spine, kneading his fingers into the small of his back to ease the persistent ache as he surveyed the dig with a critical eye. Beverly looked at him, then at the dig. The light of early morning gave the area a sepulchral glow, everything covered with a light coating of dew. What she saw made her smile. To preserve the peace of the morning, she kept her voice soft and low. “We’re almost finished.” Jean-Luc nodded his agreement and kept his voice equally quiet. “Yes. My guess is we should be finished by midday.” Beverly snorted softly. “If my back lasts that long.” That made Jean-Luc smile tiredly. “Mine too. Still, we’ve done a remarkable job.” Beverly looked around her and nodded. “You can say that again.” She then gave Jean-Luc a sympathetic look and said carefully, “I’m sorry about the jevonite artefacts.” With a weary shrug, Jean-Luc turned the corners of his mouth down. “It doesn’t matter, Beverly. I may not have them anymore, but I can still put them in my report. They exist and the impact of their discovery will resonate for years to come.” Beverly was proud of Jean-Luc, yet she felt sorry for him. “Still, Jean-Luc, you didn’t get to keep them.” He shook his head and smiled. “I wouldn’t have kept them anyway. They, and all the other artefacts would’ve been handed over to the Archaeological Council...and even they couldn’t claim ownership. Ultimately they would’ve been repatriated to Cardassia.” Beverly understood, but still she hurt for her friend. “Not even one piece, Jean-Luc?” His smile turned into a grin. “Well perhaps one little piece of pottery.” “But not the jevonite?” His smile faltered and he sighed. “No, not the jevonite.” Scuffing the dirt with her booted foot, Beverly said sulkily, “I don’t think I like archaeology anymore.” Jean-Luc chuckled and shook his head. “You liked it well enough when you were finding artefacts.” Beverly screwed her face up. “That’s because I thought I could keep what I found! Now I know I have to give it up...well that just sucks.” Pointing to the remaining excavations, Jean-Luc gave Beverly a stern look. She got the message loud and clear, quickly returning to work. The Captain allowed himself a few seconds to admire her before he too went back to his task. In a way they were lucky; they only had to restore the site to the way it was when Jean-Luc arrived, not make it look like pristine, untouched land. Jean-Luc’s estimate had been correct. Just on midday he looked around and gently called to Beverly, “Enough, my love. There’s no more to do.” Wiping her dirty hands on her shorts, Beverly gave the site a quick inspection and nodded. “This is what you found?” He squinted his eyes and flicked a droplet of sweat from his brow. “Yes. Just like this.” “Then that just leaves the campsite. Have you heard from the Cardassians?” Giving a nod, he turned towards the tent and offered his hand. Beverly took it and as they walked he said casually, “As a matter of fact, I have.” When he said nothing further, Beverly tugged at his hand. “Jean-Luc!” He smiled, but she could clearly see he was worried about something. She asked gently, “What is it?” “We’ve only got three hours. I was hoping we could get some rest before we had to leave.” Silently, Beverly calculated how much time they would need to pack up the campsite, making sure they left no trace and move to another island. She came to the same conclusion she knew Jean-Luc had. It was going to be very tight. Tightening her grip of his hand, Beverly gave a decisive nod. “Well, we’ll just have to wait until we can rest.” Jean-Luc’s spirits were buoyed by Beverly’s determination. He smiled to himself as they reached the tent and immediately began to pack up. In the right breast pocket of his shirt, Jean-Luc carried an ancient watch, given to him by his mother when he was ten years old. It had been in his mother’s family for over three hundred years and the Captain had long treasured it. Despite its great age, the watch kept remarkably good time and it was that old timepiece that Jean-Luc was relying on. All the equipment from inside and around the tent had been packed, leaving just the tent to be dismantled. For the fourth time in fifteen minutes, Jean-Luc consulted the watch. “We must hurry, Beverly!” Not stopping, Beverly said curtly, “You start beaming all this stuff to the new site, I’ll dismantle the tent.” It was a risk to open a channel to the Calypso, but Jean-Luc had little choice. He and Beverly had already chosen where they were going to go, however it was going to take at least twenty minutes to transport everything, including themselves to the new island. With one eye on the watch, Jean-Luc sent lot after lot into the ether and, when Beverly tapped him on the shoulder, he knew she had finished packing the tent. He quickly took Beverly’s hand and they stood beside the bundled shelter. “This is the last lot, we can go with it.” Suddenly Beverly held up her hand. “Wait!” She abruptly turned and ran as fast as she could, leaving a befuddled Jean-Luc standing by the packaged tent. She disappeared into the cave, only to reappear within seconds, waving her hand above her head. Jean-Luc beckoned to her, saying urgently, “Hurry, Beverly...we have to leave!” Panting slightly and covered with bat filth, Beverly took her place beside Jean-Luc and waited. Jean-Luc took one final look around him and mentally crossed his fingers. “It will have to do.” He thought. Out loud he said evenly, “Computer, energise.” They materialised in a grassy area surrounded by bushy trees. Immediately their nostrils picked up the smell of salt and Beverly tilted her head, saying happily, “Is that surf, I hear?” Jean-Luc nodded, but he was distracted. “We have to set up camp; we only have a few hours of daylight left.” He took a step towards the scattered bundles of gear, but was stopped by Beverly’s hand on his shoulder. He frowned and turned his head. “What?” With a smile gracing her face, Beverly lifted her right hand. She said nothing as Jean-Luc’s eyes dropped to see what she was offering. He gasped softly when he saw a glint of green. “Beverly!” He whispered reverently. The red head looked from Jean-Luc to the artefact in her hand. It was the first time either of them had seen it properly. Beverly opened her hand and her eyes widened. Balanced on her palm was a small, vase-like item, approximately twenty-five centimetres tall. It was made of some kind of brushed metal, but what caught the eye was the pattern of inlaid jevonite that gathered at the base, then sinuously climbed up the sides in sensuous swirls. Unlike the artefacts freed from the earth, this item had be buried in sand and covered with running water for centuries. It had been left polished and perfect. Jean-Luc had to concentrate on keeping his hands steady as he lifted it from Beverly’s palm. He turned it over again and again, inspecting every square centimetre while Beverly watched indulgently. Softly he said, “Oh, Beverly, it’s so beautiful. How on earth did you think of it?” With a shrug, Beverly gently chuckled. “To be absolutely honest, Jean-Luc, I had no idea what it was, I just suddenly remembered that we’d left an artefact in the cave.” Jean-Luc’s eyes widened. “Thank goodness you remembered. Finding this,” He held up the artefact, “Would have tipped off the Cardassians.” Beverly nodded her agreement, then added, “Not to mention you wouldn’t have it in your hands now.” She smiled tenderly, enjoying his wonder. “You have your jevonite piece, my love.” His eyes came up to meet hers, but he frowned. “Beverly, I can’t keep this.” Momentarily disappointed, Beverly quickly rallied. “But, why not, Jean-Luc? No one knows you have it and besides what good would be gained by handing over one small vase? You didn’t even find it at the dig! And it nearly cost you your life. Jean-Luc, that...” She pointed at the item, “Is yours. You deserve it.” His first instinct was to disagree, but then he shook his head, dispelling his misgivings. His eyes cleared and he smiled. “Oh, why not? All right, Beverly, I’ll keep it.” She grinned radiantly and hugged him impulsively. “I love you, Jean-Luc Picard.” He grinned and gave her a one armed hug in return. “And I love you, but we really need to set up camp.” With a light-hearted giggle, Beverly playfully nipped his earlobe. “Oh all right you slave driver. Just make sure the bed is the first this you make up in the tent.” One eyebrow rose as Jean-Luc gave Beverly a stern look. “I hope you have nothing but sleep on your mind, Beverly. We need to rest.” Adopting a look of pure innocence, Beverly said with mock sincerity, “But of course, Jean-Luc! What on earth do you think I meant?” He growled softly and shook his head. “Come on, wench.” She was still chuckling as they erected the tent. Benar came out of his utilitarian shelter and, arms akimbo, surveyed the dig. Around him, the others of his party were erecting their shelters in silence, standard procedure for the Obsidian Order. Before they had left the southern archipelago, Benar had lectured them sternly. He had noticed discipline had slipped, even to the point of casual familiarity between members. He’d even caught people chatting to each other via their communicators! He moved quickly to stamp it out, but that was only one example of how lax his workforce had become. Of course he conveniently ignored his relationship with Hessin. Rank, after all, had its privileges. As he stood outside his shelter like some kind of conqueror he didn’t see the looks of resentment and hatred cast his way by his team. If he had, there might have been dire consequences. Hessin came to him, standing a respectful two paces behind him and lowered her head. He knew she was there. “Have you carried out my orders?” “Yes, Commander.” He smiled grimly. “Good. Now I’m hungry, get me something to eat.” Behind Benar’s back, Hessin frowned worriedly. “About that, Commander...we’re running low on field rations.” Benar turned slowly and glowered at his lover. “How can that be?” Keeping her head lowered, Hessin began to tremble. “I don’t know, Sir.” Benar stepped close, his nearness making Hessin take an involuntary step backward. One of his hands shot out and slapped her hard across the face. “You dare move! You are at attention!” Resisting the urged to lift her hand to her stinging cheek, Hessin reflexively straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. Her voice was high, but steady when she barked, “My apologies, Commander!” Benar sneered, his cruel eyes staring at Hessin’s breasts. “Your apologies are worthless! I expect more from my officers and you aren’t setting any sort of example. You had best improve or I will be...displeased.” Hessin shuddered; she knew exactly what that meant. She felt despair and almost sniffed back a tear, but fear of repercussions made her steel herself. She gave a curt nod, saying, “As you wish, Commander.” Benar once again invaded Hessin’s personal space. He did so deliberately; he enjoyed intimidating people, especially those smaller and weaker. He adopted a conversational tone, however he still sounded sinister. “Now, Hessin my dear, tell me why we are running out of field rations.” Panic slithered down Hessin’s spine. She swallowed quickly, desperately trying to stall, to find the time to think of a reply he would accept, but Benar wouldn’t wait. He yelled so loudly the others stopped and looked up. When they saw what was happening they quickly dropped their eyes and studiously ignored the situation. It was safer that way. “Speak, you stupid woman!” Hessin knew she was in extreme danger. Yerok might have had the courage to stand up to Benar, but he had the backing of the rest of the crew. Hessin stood alone, especially as she was Benar’s lover. There was no love lost between her and the others, in fact they hated her. It was with this in her mind that Hessin decided to shift the blame. “The rest of the crew must have been stealing, Commander.” It was a typical, yet elegant lie. By blaming the workforce, Hessin had cleverly checkmated Benar. Yerok and the others had already established they would not be bullied by their Commander, in fact they had made it abundantly clear they were there only because they chose to be. Being former Obsidian Order officers they naturally accepted discipline, but only so much. They were well aware they were free to make their own decisions. Benar blinked, shocked at Hessin’s audacity. She had surprised him; he hadn’t thought her capable of such guile. A cold smile crept over his lips, showing his uneven, discoloured teeth. “Really? Well you’d best see that they stop stealing, hadn’t you.” She dare not look at him, she knew his sarcasm hid his anger. Instead she offered a crisp, “Yes, Commander!” She stood still, her back ram-rod straight, waiting to see what he would do next. Anything was possible so she tried to prepare. When Benar spoke there was no trace of anger in his voice. “Also, I want you to detail four people to begin foraging for edible food. If we’re short of field rations, we will simply supplement with what we can find. If that fails, cut the rations to one per person every three days.” Hessin hesitated for a fraction of a second in her response, causing Benar to bark, “Well?” Caught in his cruel gaze, Hessin struggled to keep her voice steady. “With respect, Commander, if you want the team to work as long and hard as they have been, they will need more that one ration every three days.” Benar’s smile was back. “Then you’d best hope they find edible food. You are dismissed.” Hessin turned to leave, but stopped on hearing his soft, menacing voice. “And I’m still hungry, Hessin, my dear.” She looked back and nodded. “I understand, Commander.” Benar turned back to the dig and clasped his hands behind his back. His eyes swept over the land as anticipation made him smile. He murmured softly, “We will find it, I know we will.” He didn’t see Yerok’s scornful look, nor did her hear the barely audible whisper of discontent from the workers. By the time they’d set up the tent and scouted the immediate area, both Jean-Luc and Beverly were exhausted. Beverly, however, couldn’t go to bed straight away, not with her hair and shoulders covered in bat filth. Jean-Luc glanced at her to see her picking at her hair, her expression one of disgust. “You won’t get it out that way, Beverly.” She sighed in defeat. “I know, I’ll have to wash it. Is there a fresh water source close by?” Consulting a tricorder, Jean-Luc nodded, but there was caution in his voice. “Yes, but I think we should see it first before you get into it.” Beverly wandered over to her lover and peered at the screen. “Hmm, a small lake. What feeds it?” Pointing, Jean-Luc showed her. “These three streams.” She gave a nod. “Okay, well the sea must be close, we can hear it.” “Yes, only about one hundred and fifty metres away.” With a smile, Beverly gently pinched Jean-Luc’s backside. “Sounds good. Coming with me?” He was going to refuse, but one look into her eyes convinced him he should go. When he nodded, Beverly grinned then gently poked his shoulder. “You’re such a push over, Jean-Luc.” He shrugged, basking in her gentle humour. She took his hand and began to walk towards the unseen beach. Jean-Luc stopped her, tilting his head and frowning. “Aren’t you going to get your wash bag?” Beverly shook her head, her blue eyes twinkling. There was mischief afoot, Jean-Luc was certain of it. He lowered his brow and said with a ring of caution, “Beverly...” She ignored him and tugged on his hand. “Come on, Jean-Luc,” She lifted some of her hair. “This bat shit stinks!” Still suspicious, Jean-Luc allowed her to lead him through the bush, the sound of the surf getting ever louder. They soon crested some small dunes, pushing their way through waist high costal grasses before they both stopped dead. It was Beverly who spoke first. “Oh wow! It’s lovely.” Jean-Luc nodded, his eyes tracking the surf as it pounded in. They were facing a small bay, each end truncated by rocky headlands. There were boulders strewn about in picturesque disorder and, on the far right side of the bay, a small stream cut through the sand and met the shallows. Beverly followed Jean-Luc’s steady gave and frowned. “The water in that stream is brown.” Jean-Luc looked down at his tricorder and softly snorted. “Tannin from vegetation upstream.” “Potable?” He nodded. “Yes and clean. We will be able to wash the salt off in there.” Beverly smiled and let go of Jean-Luc’s hand to wander onto the sandy beach. As he watched, she shed her clothes then, sashaying extravagantly, made her way to the surf, but not before looking over her shoulder, winking and crooking her finger. His tiredness forgotten, Jean-Luc took his time walking down the dune and undressing, but his eyes never left Beverly who was paddling in the shore break while she waited for him. As one would expect for a tropical region, the water was warm. Having reached Beverly, Jean-Luc took her hand and together they walked into deeper water, the large waves making them duck under. They washed, then played a while in the surf, Jean-Luc showing off by displaying excellent body surfing technique. Each was aware of the sexual undertone to their playing, but perversely, neither took advantage of it. Beverly even ignored Jean-Luc’s erection. It was the return of their tiredness that drove them from the water. Hand in hand they walked to the stream and washed the salt from their bodies then made their way back to the small pile of discarded clothing. By mutual silent agreement they didn’t dress, but carried their clothes as they returned to the campsite. Inside the tent they lay on the bed naked and spooned, sleep quickly claiming them. Jean-Luc was dreaming and it was erotic. His arm tightened around Beverly as he pressed his erection against the soft skin of her behind. She mewed as she stirred but something alarmed her. She froze making Jean-Luc aware, even in his sleep, that all was not right. His eyes opened and quickly scanned the tent, but saw nothing amiss. Placing his mouth close to Beverly’s ear he whispered, “What is it?” She whispered back, “I heard something outside.” Jean-Luc listened but heard nothing. Softly he breathed, “Can you describe it?” Beverly shook her head, her eyes glued to the tent door. “No..I...” Suddenly they both heard a noise and froze. They listened intently for several minutes, but heard nothing but the thump of the surf and the breeze moving through the tops of the trees. Then it happened again. Beverly whispered urgently, “What the hell is that?” Jean-Luc sat up, cocked his head and frowned. “I don’t know.” He got to his feet and picked up a phaser. “But I’m about to find out.” He stepped over Beverly but she grabbed his lower leg. “Wait, I’ll come with you.” Shaking his head, Jean-Luc’s eyes tracked the noise as it moved around the tent. “No, you wait here. Take this.” He stooped and picked up another phaser. Beverly took it, checked the setting and said softly, “You be careful, Jean-Luc.” He nodded as he pulled on his trousers. “I will.” The door seam slid open silently and Jean-Luc stepped out into the light of early morning. At first he saw nothing, but he knew whatever it was, it had moved to behind the tent. With the phaser at the ready and his thumb on the activation button, Jean-Luc moved silently on his bare feet, his hearing attuned to the slightest sound. He paused momentarily at the tent’s side, took a steadying breath, then stepped around the corner and crouched in a defensive firing position. For a second or two he saw nothing, then there was a blur of movement and a startled coughing growl. Something launched itself at Jean-Luc, hitting him square in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Flat on his back, Jean-Luc felt searing pain as the creature latched on to his midriff and raked its claws down his flanks. He heard Beverly call his name, but he shouted, “Stay inside!” He grabbed what he thought was its head and lifted. Infuriated, the animal snapped its jaws only centimetres from his face. It made a sudden lunge at him, aiming for his face, but Jean-Luc managed to jam his phaser sideways in its mouth. With an enraged screech, it shook its head violently, trying to dislodge the obstruction. It braced itself on its front paws and lifted its behind then suddenly raked its hind claws down Jean-Luc’s stomach, tearing his flesh open. He yelled, grabbed the butt of the phaser and yanked it free of the creature’s jaws. Not giving it any time to react, he turned the weapon and fired point blank. The creature’s head vaporised, but the body continued to tear at Jean-Luc. He grabbed the animal’s furry neck and wrenched the body sideways. It rolled off him, the paws continuing to move, even in death. Jean-Luc gave the creature one last look, then, with gritted teeth, looked down at his body. He could see a lot of blood and torn skin. He needed help. “Beverly!” She must have already been outside, because she was with him in seconds. She fell to her knees, her fingers quickly probing the tears. Jean-Luc let his head rest on the ground as he stared up at the trees. Although in significant pain, he managed a steady voice when he asked, “How bad is it?” Beverly was in physician mode. Crisply she said, “Some lacerations have torn the muscle tissue and I can see your ribs in others. How’s the pain?” “Tolerable.” Jean-Luc winced slightly as Beverly’s fingers probed a particularly deep wound. “Do you think you can walk?” He nodded. “Yes.” “Okay then, come on, I’ll help you up.” Jean-Luc couldn’t stifle a moan as he stood and, once he was on his feet, he bent forward, hands on thighs. Beverly gave him a moment or two then said gently, “Come on, Jean-Luc, let’s get you into the tent.” By the time she laid him down on the bed, he was covered in blood and sweat and panting heavily. Beverly quickly retrieved the med kit and a clean shirt. She wiped away most of the blood with the shirt and, with professional ease, closed all but the worst lacerations with the tissue regenerator. She dabbed at the oozing blood and said softly, “I have to heal the muscle tissue before I can close the wounds, Jean-Luc. It will be...uncomfortable.” Somehow he summoned a smile. “I understand, Beverly. You do what you have to do, I’ll be fine.” He clearly saw the sympathy in her eyes as she said, “You must keep perfectly still.” He nodded and closed his eyes. Beverly knew he was ready. She used her fingers to splay open a wound and ease the end of her instrument into Jean-Luc’s flesh. His jaw tightened, but otherwise he didn’t react. As quickly as she could, Beverly healed the torn muscle then closed the wound. Not taking her eyes off his body, Beverly said softly, “One down, five to go. How you doing?” Through gritted teeth, Jean-Luc said in a husky voice, “I’m fine.” Beverly glanced at Jean-Luc’s pale face and shook her head. “You’d say that even if your intestines were hanging out.” When he didn’t respond, Beverly muttered quietly, “Okay, number two.” By the time she reached the fifth and final laceration, Jean-Luc was bathed in sweat and ever so slightly trembling. Beverly placed the shirt over the wound and pressed. Jean-Luc moaned softly and Beverly frowned. “I’m sorry, Jean-Luc, I’m trying to stem the bleeding. This is the deepest wound and the medical tricorder says the muscle is torn right through and that your peritoneum has been punctured.” Jean-Luc grimaced and gasped, “That’s bad, isn’t it?” Beverly nodded. “Yes, it’s serious, but provided I can close it cleanly it should be all right. The trouble is there’s too much blood, I can’t see properly.” Showing great courage, Jean-Luc said roughly, “Can I help?” Beverly thought for a few seconds before she spoke. “Well, yes you can, but it’s going to be very painful for you.” He didn’t say anything, he simply shrugged, his eyes still closed. Beverly knew he was gathering himself. She swallowed and said quietly, “Give me your hands.” He did so and Beverly momentarily admired his calmness. “I’m going to guide your hands into the wound, right through the skin, subcutaneous matter and through the muscle. When I tell you, pull in opposite directions and open the wound wide. Jean-Luc grimaced as his fingers slid into the wound, but as his hands pushed further he groaned and began to tremble. Beverly glanced at him to see his face contorted, the sinews standing out across his jaw and down his neck. Knowing she had limited time, Beverly quickly wiped away some blood and positioned Jean-Luc’s hands. She then picked up her instrument and, with the shirt in one hand and the regenerator in the other she said, “Now, Jean-Luc...pull the wound open.” He cried out and his body stiffened as he obeyed Beverly’s command. Using the shirt, Beverly swiped the blood away in the wound and skilfully closed the puncture. Then she put the instrument and shirt down and gently took Jean-Luc’s hands, easing them out of the wound. It was a matter of only another minute before she had repaired the muscle and sealed the laceration. As she wiped the remaining blood from his torso away she said gently, “Relax, my love, it’s over.” He let out a long, shuddering breath and opened his eyes. He watched silently as Beverly wiped the blood from his hands. She kept her attention on what she was doing as she said softly, “You were very brave, Jean-Luc.” When he said nothing, Beverly lifted her head and looked at him. He was smiling. She stopped what she was doing to gently kiss him. He sighed and briefly closed his eyes before lifting his hand to trail his fingers down her face. The smile remained as he whispered, “You gave me the strength I needed.” Beverly sat up and offered her hand. Jean-Luc took it and sat up, his eyes wandering over his torso. He saw only faint pink lines, making his smile become a grin. He raised his eyes to Beverly and said softly, “You did a good job.” She gently ran her fingers over the fading lines. She sighed, but there was a smile on her face. “I had to preserve perfection.” Vaguely embarrassed, Jean-Luc growled, “Beverly...” The red head shrugged. “It’s not my fault you’re beautiful, Jean-Luc.” Exasperated, Jean-Luc shook his head and moved to stand up. Beverly offered her assistance, but Jean-Luc gently waved her hands away. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” Beverly had done what she could to wipe him clean of blood, but the shirt was soaked leaving streaks and clots caught in his body hair. Jean-Luc looked down at himself and showed his distaste with a soft snort. “I need to wash.” Beverly agreed, but she had a nagging concern. She hesitated, then said carefully, “Jean-Luc, what about the animal that attacked you?” He frowned, saying confidently, “It’s dead.” Beverly sighed, giving Jean-Luc a hard look. “I know that. What I’m worried about are its relatives. What if there’re more of them?” That made Jean-Luc frown. “Well, what do you want me to do, Beverly? We can’t scour the entire island, killing everything we think poses a threat.” There was a glitter of anger in her eyes as her voice lost its softness. “I know that too, Jean-Luc, but we have to do something. I don’t know what else is here, however I do know that the animal that attacked you is dangerous. We have to protect ourselves somehow.” What she’d said was true, Jean-Luc couldn’t deny it. He thought for a while, then shrugged. “I suppose we’ll just have to be armed at all times. I can’t think of what else we can do.” With her teeth worrying her nails, Beverly nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll be setting proximity alarms?” Jean-Luc nodded. “Of course.” She sighed. “Then I guess carrying phasers is all we can do...that and stay together at all times.” “Agreed.” Beverly lifted her head and smiled lopsidedly. “In that case, my dear Captain, I’ll accompany you to the beach.” The cloud of tension lifted and Jean-Luc smiled. “I would enjoy that, Beverly.” There was a distinct air of mischief about her as she said pertly, “Oh, you’ll enjoy it all right.” With his interest piqued, Jean-Luc followed her from the tent. Beverly had put on a pair of shorts and a shirt in the tent, but instead of undressing on the beach, she stood with one hand on her hip and her head cocked to one side, obviously waiting. Jean-Luc regarded her with curiosity, idly wondering what was on her mind, apart from the obvious. He soon found out. In a sultry voice, Beverly said softly, “Take your pants off, Jean-Luc...slowly.” With his eyes on Beverly, his hands undid his fly and slowly pushed his trousers down until the thick growth of his pubic hair was showing. He then shifted his hands to the sides, hooking his thumbs under the waist band and sliding his trousers down further. His eyes were locked on Beverly and he growled softly as she began to play with her breasts, gently squeezing them and pinching the nipples. He felt his penis begin to stiffen so he pushed his trousers down some more and watched Beverly’s reaction as it was freed from the confines of his pants. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and her eyes widened. Jean-Luc quickly pushed his pants to his feet and stepped out of them. He then braced his legs and, as Beverly watched with rapt attention, he took his penis in his hand and began to slowly stroke it. Their world had shrunk, narrowed down to only each other and what they were doing. They no longer heard the thump of the surf, or felt the touch of the breeze on their heated skin. With their eyes locked, Beverly undressed and immediately slid her fingers through her folds. She bit her lower lip, then whispered urgently, “Flex.” Jean-Luc didn’t hear her, but he saw her lips move. “What?” She raised her voice. “I said, flex.” Jean-Luc frowned but continued his slow stroking of his penis. “Not that again.” Beverly had begun to pant and Jean-Luc could see the pink flush of arousal creeping over her skin. She gritted her teeth as her fingers quickened their dance over her clit. “Please, Jean-Luc, just do it for me.” He couldn’t refuse her, but he felt ridiculous, standing naked on a beach, slowly masturbating while flexing his muscles. Still, it was worth it. He struck a classical pose and flexed all his muscles. He watched intently as Beverly suddenly splayed her labia with one hand while the other brought her to a quick orgasm. She remained on her feet during the climax; her head craned back as she cried out but fell to her knees as it waned. His need spiralling out of control by what he had witnessed, Jean-Luc quickly went to Beverly and eased her onto her back. She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he spread her legs with his knees and braced himself on his arms. He hovered there, the head of his penis nudging at her entrance. She traced the prominent veins on his corded arms, then looked into his eyes and said huskily, “Do it, Jean-Luc.” He thrust inside her and she rose to meet him, their bodies grinding together. Jean-Luc lifted one hand to cradle Beverly’s head as he began his rhythm. She wrapped her lissom legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders as he slid effortlessly in and out of her. He removed his hand from behind her head and squeezed her breast before tweaking her nipple. Beverly began to writhe under him so he quickened his pace and was rewarded when she gasped. “Oh God, yes...yes...harder, Jean-Luc, harder!” He closed his eyes, his mouth a thin line. His free hand drifted down, his fingers finding Beverly’s engorged clit. As he devoted himself to pleasuring his lover, Jean-Luc strove to control his own desire. It took formidable strength of mind and body, but, as Beverly writhed through another orgasm, he tempered his thrusting while she contracted around him and waited while she recovered. He them resumed his rhythm and opened his eyes to watch Beverly begin the climb again. His knowing fingers teased her clit as his penis reached deep inside her, at times pushing beyond her cervix and into her womb. When that happened Beverly cried out, overwhelmed by being so completely filled. Then as he slid out his fingers slid rapidly over her clit. It was too much and she suddenly climaxed again. This time as she shuddered and spasmed, Jean-Luc thrust hard and fast four or five times, then buried himself as deeply as he could. His hips jerked in time with his ejaculations and his body was rigid. Beverly’s nails had marked his trembling shoulders and back, the sweat making the scratches sting, but Jean-Luc ignored that and everything else other than the exquisite sensations coursing through his body. As Beverly’s internal muscles began to ease their grip of him he slowly lowered his body until he rested on her, his head next to hers. Beverly gently caressed his back, relaxing him. He felt a residual contraction on his softening penis and he moaned softly, attempting to gently thrust. Beverly’s hands went to his buttocks, encouraging him to continue. He closed his eyes again and persisted with his thrusting and Beverly began to match his rhythm. He didn’t pull back very much, but he was able to push inside her and grind himself against her. He gritted his teeth; his penis was extremely sensitive and the motion was causing excruciating sensations to assail him, but, spurred on by the woman he loved, he persevered. Beverly’s grip of his backside increased and she began to jerk rhythmically. She bit his shoulder, panting urgently, “Oh...oh...Jean-Luc, I’m going to come!” He pushed hard and rotated his hips as he pinched her nipple forcefully. Beverly arched under him and cried out, her body stiff. She held it for several seconds before she slowly began to relax. Letting out a long sigh, she opened her eyes and blinked owlishly. She was still breathless when she spoke. “Jesus, Jean-Luc, how did you do that?” He lifted his head to smile tiredly down at her. “I was inspired.” Beverly gently traced his features, then kissed the tip of his nose. “If I’d known you were such a skilful lover I would’ve done this years ago.” His male ego suitably stroked, he smiled smugly and kissed her, but said nothing. Beverly, however, had more to say. “Your former lovers must’ve been pleased.” That made him frown. He shook his head and mildly rebuked the inquisitive woman. “Do you really think it’s appropriate to talk about that right now?” Beverly saucily squeezed his buttock cheeks, making Jean-Luc aware of the bruises she had created. “And why not?” He sighed and gave a little push with his penis, causing Beverly to softly gasp. “That’s why, Beverly. We’ve just made love and I’m still inside you.” Beverly’s eyes were twinkling as she traced her fingers over his sensuous lower lip. She pouted then said abruptly, “I’ve got sand in my pussy.” Jean-Luc closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. “Beverly...” She raised her eyebrows and adopted an air of innocence. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t got sand on your balls.” He opened his eyes and gave Beverly a stern look. “You really don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you.” Beverly tapped her index finger against her chin while she thought about that. Meanwhile Jean-Luc placed one elbow on the sand and rested his weight on it as he cradled his head in his palm. With his free hand he idly drew runes on Beverly’s chest and stomach. He didn’t, however, withdraw from her body. He was drawn from his study of her when she said matter-of-factly, “If it’s flowers, chocolates and dancing you’re talking about, then I’m very romantic, but in the aftermath of good sex all I want to do is eat. Sex makes me hungry.” One of Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose as he digested that. He pulled down the corners of his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Has that always been the case?” Beverly tilted her head and nodded. “Pretty much.” Adopting a concerned look, Jean-Luc said with mock seriousness, “Then we’d better get you back to the tent to feed you. I don’t want you taking any more bites out of me.” Beverly’s eyes went to the slowly bleeding bite mark on his shoulder and blushed, but she quickly recovered. Giving Jean-Luc a gentle shove she said, “Oh no we don’t! I’ve still got sand in my pussy; we’re going for a swim.” Jean-Luc winced softly as his now flaccid penis slid out. Beverly offered a barely sympathetic smile and asked pertly, “Sore?” He growled and pinched her nipple, making her yelp. She scuttled out from under him and bolted for the water, Jean-Luc hot on her heels. They played for some time before Beverly’s stomach growled loudly. Jean-Luc laughed as Beverly placed her hands on her belly and gave a rueful look. “Sorry about that.” He shook his head and laughed again. “Don’t be. Come on; let’s go back to the tent.” Before she turned to leave the waves, Beverly scooped up some water and splashed it over Jean-Luc’s body. She then stood and admired how the water ran down him. He looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable signs of arousal. His penis twitched as his interest was stirred. Beverly saw it and licked her lips, then turned and sashayed towards the shallows. Jean-Luc followed her, his eyes riveted on her swaying behind. He caught up with her and grabbed her hips. She stopped and mewed as he pressed his growing erection against her. He placed a line of kisses across her shoulder, up her neck to nibble under her ear. She reached behind her, gripped his backside and pulled him harder against her. She said softly, “Again?” In response he pushed down on her hips and rumbled, “Kneel.” She did do and he knelt behind her. His hands snaked around and, as one played with her nipples, the other slid into her sex. Once she became slick with lubrication he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her down on all fours. Taken by surprise, Beverly looked back and said carefully, “Jean-Luc?” He was rock hard and his face was a study in raw need. He slid his penis between her cheeks and closed his eyes. Beverly had never seen him so focussed. His voice was rough as he said desperately, “Let me, Beverly, please let me.” She had never allowed this most intimate of acts. She had always refused, not fully convinced she would enjoy it and, to be honest, feared the pain she was sure it would cause. But she trusted Jean-Luc implicitly so, after a moment’s hesitation, said softly, “Okay, but go slow, I’ve never done this before.” His hand left her shoulder and tenderly traced the nodules of her spine. His smile of love and gratitude lit his face. “I’ll be gentle my love, I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He gently played with her clit for a while, reigniting her desire before he used her wetness to cover her anus. Once he was satisfied his fingers were also well covered he gently inserted one finger into her. Beverly frowned at the sensation and concentrated on relaxing her sphincter. Jean-Luc felt what she was doing and gently encouraged her. “Yes, Beverly, that’s it, relax.” He slid another finger inside and Beverly pushed back reflexively. Spurred on by this, Jean-Luc carefully pushed another finger inside, then the fourth. He waited patiently while Beverly became accustomed to being stretched all the while gently playing with her clit. Beverly was caught between the delicious feeling of having her clit teased, while getting used to the sensations coming from her anus. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it was strange all the same. When she was fully relaxed and accepting, Jean-Luc withdrew his fingers and lifted his penis. He placed the head against her puckered entrance and said softly, “Just relax, Beverly, tell me stop if you need me to.” She nodded, breathless with need. Jean-Luc took a moment to cover the head and shaft of his penis with her lubrication before he pushed steadily until the head suddenly disappeared inside her. Beverly quickly lifted her head and cried out, “Oh!” Jean-Luc stopped and panted softly, “It’s all right, just relax.” He slid two of his fingers into Beverly’s vagina while his thumb brushed over her clit. Beverly moaned loudly and Jean-Luc gently pushed some more of his penis into her. Beverly was almost overwhelmed; she had never felt so aroused. She instinctively pushed back, encouraging Jean-Luc to slide the rest of his large penis inside her. She didn’t know what to do, completely filled and mad with need, she shook her head, all the while uttering unintelligible sounds. Keeping his free hand busy working its magic in her sex, Jean-Luc slowly and very gently began to thrust. He gripped her hip with one hand and helped her to push back against his thrusts. Although he’d promised it wouldn’t hurt, Beverly did feel some pain, but it was pain she’d never experienced before. It seemed to blend seamlessly with exquisite ecstasy, her entire body was singing with sensation. Jean-Luc too was overwhelmed. He had only done this twice before, with a woman who was brave enough to allow him, however she hadn’t enjoyed it at all and eventually forbade him to ever do it with her again. It was a familiar problem; she had told him he was simply too big. Jean-Luc struggled for control, the love and trust Beverly had bestowed upon him liberated him in ways he’d never experienced before. He looked down at his penis as it appeared then disappeared in Beverly’s body and was overcome with love and gratitude. Suddenly his penis swelled and he craned his head back, yelling into the breeze, “Beverly, I’m going to come!” Just as the last word left his mouth he came. It shattered him, causing him to cry out gutturally, his back arched as he pushed himself as deeply inside Beverly as he could. The force of his shove, coupled with the weight of his upper body as he collapsed on her made Beverly fall forward into the shallow water. Jean-Luc realised what was happening and rolled them both onto their sides, clearing Beverly’s face of the water. Trying to cope with his invasion of her body and his fingers which continued to tease her, Beverly shook her head, unable to speak coherently. Jean-Luc wrapped his free arm around her and said into her ear, “Let go, my love...come for me.” She’d always found his voice compelling, but never more so than just then. Arching against his body, Beverly laid the back of her head on his shoulder, giving him access to the creamy column of her neck. He bit her as she desperately clung to his arm. With his thumb dancing over her clit and his fingers curling up inside her, he ordered succinctly, “Come, Beverly, come for me!” It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it that tipped Beverly over the edge. Her body suddenly flexed and she screamed as a cataclysmic orgasm swept her away. Jean-Luc held her tightly, watching with immense satisfaction as Beverly rode her climax. Her eyelids suddenly fluttered and her eyes rolled back as consciousness fled. Alarmed, Jean-Luc held her even tighter and called her name urgently. “Bevery! Beverly, are you all right?” At first she was unresponsive, but after a few moments she cracked her eyes open only to see Jean-Luc’s panicking face. “Beverly! Wake up!” She summoned a smile and reached up to gently touch his face. Softly she said, “It’s okay, Jean-Luc...I’m all right.” He blinked away tears and laid his forehead on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Beverly, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She frowned and shifted so she could see him properly. “Hurt me? You didn’t hurt me, Jean-Luc. I just had the most powerful orgasm of my life. I want to thank you.” Jean-Luc lifted his head, his expression incredulous. “You lost consciousness, Beverly.” She grinned. “I know! Wasn’t it great?” She moved in his arms, causing his soft penis to slip from her. Jean-Luc processed her words as she patiently waited and was gratified when he finally smiled. “So...it was good?” Beverly beamed and lifted her arms to hug his head. “It was the best I’ve ever had, my love. Was it good for you too?” He hugged her and she managed to turn in his arms so that they were facing each other. After a protracted kiss, he smiled tenderly. “It was absolutely wonderful, Beverly. Thank you so very much.” The tide was coming in and the waves were getting bigger. One wave washed over them, leaving them spluttering and laughing. Jean-Luc got to his feet then helped Beverly up. They walked out of the water hand in hand and headed for the stream. It was a comfortable silence they shared as they strolled, but Beverly’s curiosity had been roused. She stole a glance at Jean-Luc and smiled at seeing his contentment so obviously displayed. Gently squeezing his hand, she said softly, “I didn’t know you liked it that way.” He reddened slightly, but turned to look at her as he replied, “I have long held a desire for your arse, Beverly.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? I always thought you were a breast man.” She looked down at herself and tilted her head. “Or maybe a leg man.” His hand left hers to cover one cheek of her backside. He was smiling as he shook his head. “No, I’m an arse man. I’ve been watching yours for years.” Scandalised, Beverly held her hand over her open mouth. “You? A voyeur? I don’t believe it!” He laughed, delighted with her humour. “Believe it! I used to try to see you from behind when you bent over.” He growled and Beverly laughed. “Well. That makes both of us!” Confused, Jean-Luc shook his head. “I beg your pardon?” Beverly chuckled. “I’m a voyeur too! I used to catch glimpses of your crotch, those black uniform pants manage to hide quite a bit, but they can’t completely disguise your package, my love.” She reached over and fluttered her fingers over his penis, making it twitch. Jean-Luc grabbed her wrist and shook his head. “Oh no you don’t!” Beverly giggled, batting her eyes at him. “What’s the matter, Jean-Luc...too sore?” He grumbled grouchily, “Wench!” But secretly he was immensely flattered. It was a cause of wonder to him that Beverly loved him as much as he loved her. It was indeed a dream come true. He placed her hand in his and looked into her eyes, his face solemn. “What did I do to deserve you, Beverly, mon coeur?” Beverly lifted her free hand and caressed his face. “I might ask the same thing, my heart.” They washed and went back to the tent, it was time to ease Beverly’s other hunger. The first Benar knew of the brewing mutiny was when he stumbled upon three members of his workforce coming out of the supply depot, their pockets stuffed with packets of field rations. The burly commander drew his weapon and marched the thieves to the dig, bringing the others to a halt. He made the three kneel as he stood behind them and addressed the workers. “These three,” He pointed his disruptor at them, “Were caught stealing your food.” Before he could continue, Yerok stood, a trowel in his dirty hand. “What do you intend to do, Benar?” The Commander’s eyes narrowed with anger. How dare Yerok use his name instead of his rank? Despite his anger, Benar understood he had to be careful. Rather than make a unilateral decision, he shrugged and put the onus back on his crew. “What do you think I should do, Yerok? It was your food these men were stealing.” Yerok nodded silently, the tension in the air palpable. “If we had enough to eat, they wouldn’t need to steal.” As Benar watched, other workers stood and dropped their tools. Yerok stooped and put his trowel down. When he straightened, Benar could see the resignation in his face. “It’s over, Benar.” The Commander shook his head and raised his weapon. “No it’s not! We’ve only been here a few days,” he pointed with his free hand. “There’s much to do.” “That may be so, Benar, but it won’t be us that does it.” Benar heard movement behind him and tensed, but when Hessin appeared at his shoulder, disruptor in hand, he smiled coldly. “Are you prepared to die, Yerok?” He waved the weapon in an arc. “How many of you are prepared to die?” An angry murmur rippled across the dig. Several workers stepped out of their trenches and moved towards the two officers. Yerok barked, “Stop! There is no need for anyone to die.” The elderly Cardassian turned his attention back to Benar. “This is pointless, Benar. Yes, you and your...woman...might kill some of us, but you will most certainly die too.” Acknowledging the impasse, Benar narrowed his eyes and asked warily, “You have another solution?” Yerok nodded slowly. “Yes. Though most of the crew wish to leave, there are some that are willing to stay. My suggestion is you allow those who wish to go to leave peacefully.” Benar’s hand tightened on the disruptor. His eyes glittered dangerously as he gave Yerok a look of pure hatred. “I see. And what about the ship? I have no desire to be stranded here.” The old man had an answer. “Send two men who are willing to stay. They can bring the ship back.” Benar nodded slowly. His hand relaxed a little and the weapon dropped. “And what about you, Yerok? Do you stay or go?” Straightening his bent spine, Yerok bowed his head. “I will stay, Benar.” The Commander wasn’t surprised. Yerok, like most former Obsidian Order had nowhere else to go. Added to that Yerok’s age and it became obvious that he would stand by his Commander as he’d done for most of his adult life. With a slow nod of satisfaction, Benar holstered his weapon. To the three men kneeling in front of him he said derisively, “Get out of my sight, you curs.” Once his eyes left them, in his mind they no longer existed. To the others he said grandly, “Those who wish to leave will assemble here in one hour. The rest of you, keep digging.” Not waiting for a reply, or expecting one, Benar spun on his heel and stalked back to his tent, Hessin in tow. She had barely entered the shelter when Benar grabbed her and punched her in the face, breaking her jaw. Before she could even try to protect herself, Benar took a handful of her hair and hoisted her to her feet. He then proceeded to punch her face and body mercilessly. A particularly savage blow to her face made her lose consciousness, but the enraged Commander slapped her back to wakefulness. Later she would wish that she’d stayed senseless. Benar threw her to the ground and kicked her viciously, causing her to curl up into a ball. Unfortunately this made Benar even more furious. In a blind rage he picked up a camp chair and began to beat the helpless woman with it. He spat curses and vile insults at her, spittle flying from his mouth. Hessin was used to being abused by her lover, but never as badly as this. She tried to talk to him, but it was a terrible mistake. “Benar, please...stop.” When the blows suddenly ceased, Hessin thought she’d got through to him, but it was a forlorn hope. Large cruel hands abruptly wrenched her body out of its defensive posture, then tore at her clothes. Hessin automatically tried to defend herself, but that only brought more blows. Incoherent with rage, Benar ripped Hessin’s clothes off, then opened his trousers to reveal his throbbing erection. He dragged Hessin by the hair to a table and bent her over it. The anal rape tore her soft flesh and she screamed piteously. It only seemed to spur him on. He grunted like an animal as he came, but he wasn’t finished. He withdrew and picked up the sobbing woman, turning her over and slamming her back onto the tabletop. He forced his fist rudely into her vagina, an insane grin on his face as she shrieked in agony. Just when Hessin could take no more, he removed his fist and raped her savagely again. Delirious with pain, Hessin thought her ordeal was over. That was until she felt Benar grip her hair and pull her head back so far she began to choke. It became worse when he shoved his penis into her mouth. Unable to breathe, Hessin weakly tried to grab his penis to pull it from her mouth, but Benar slapped her hands away and shoved his penis further into her throat. Hessin’s eyes were grossly swollen, nothing more than mere slits, but she managed to look at her abuser, imploring him with her expression, however she knew as soon as she looked at him that she was doomed. Something had snapped in Benar. Always a cruel and heartless man, he was now completely out of control. With her vision beginning to grey, Hessin felt more agony as Benar pinched her broken nose and twisted it. It was a blessing that she never endured what he did next. While he raped her orally, he wrapped his hands around her throat and throttled the life out of her. Minutes later, as he came for a third time, her lifeless body jerked spasmodically as he continued to hit her. It was only when she didn’t respond to more pain that he finally stopped. He sneered down at the body and wiped his penis on her bloodied clothing, before pulling up his pants and making himself comfortable. He stood for a moment, coldly studying the battered body of his former lover and sighed. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her off the table, muttering darkly. “Stupid whore.” The body sprawled on the floor and Benar promptly dismissed it from his mind. He consulted a chronometer as he had one final thought on the matter. “Plenty more where she came from.” He righted a chair and sat, brooding darkly. There was an air if optimistic excitement around the gathered men and women as they waited for Benar to appear. At their feet were their meagre possessions and in their minds were plans for an uncertain future, their only goal: to get off Delos. Their heads turned as one when Benar finally deigned to join them. He stood regally, his feet braced and his hands behind his back. Of the thirty-five members of the crew, twenty-two had opted to leave. Benar regarded them coldly before he addressed them. “Are you sure you want to leave? There is no way I can convince you to stay?” No one spoke directly to the Commander, but all shook their heads. Benar nodded once and lifted his chin. “Very well.” What happened next occurred so quickly, no one could’ve stopped it. Benar snapped his hands around and fired the two disruptors he held. Set on a wide killing beam, the twenty-two vaporised in an instant, barely able to articulate their shock and horror at the betrayal. There followed an eerie silence, not even the birds were heard. At the sound of a voice, Benar turned, his weapons aimed. The crew froze and for several moments nothing happened. Then Yerok said quietly, “Return to work, it doesn’t concern us.” One by one the remaining thirteen went back to work. Benar stared with his mad eyes before going into his shelter and retrieving a chair. He set in down outside and sat in it, the disruptors in his lap. Although the constant threat the Cardassians posed was in the back of their minds, Jean-Luc and Beverly began to relax. The days passed almost without notice as the lovers occupied themselves by swimming, exploring and making love. They had two more encounters with wild animals, one ending in the death of the creature, but not before Beverly was bitten. They had been exploring north of the lake in an area of thick bush. Standing under a particularly tall tree, Jean-Luc and Beverly were admiring some brightly coloured birds when, without warning, one of the creatures barrelled out of the undergrowth and attacked Beverly’s lower leg. She screamed and fell, her right hand trying to free her phaser from her shorts pocket. The animal latched on, shaking its head viciously and tearing Beverly’s flesh. Jean-Luc had to shout loudly to be heard over Beverly’s screams and the animal’s savage growling. “Beverly! Stay still!” She obeyed instantly. The orange beam from Jean-Luc’s phaser lanced past Beverly’s body and struck the creature in its side. It stiffened, then its body relaxed. In the sudden silence Beverly slowly sat up and groaned. Jean-Luc stuffed his weapon into his pocket and quickly knelt by Beverly’s side. Through gritted teeth she said unevenly, “Is it dead?” Jean-Luc prodded the animal then grunted softly. “Yes.” She leaned forward and grabbed the animal’s head. She had begun to tremble. “Help me...” Jean-Luc peered at the creature’s mouth and, on closer inspection, realised its jaws were clamped down, the teeth embedded in Beverly’s leg. He immediately tried to prise the jaws open, but, in death, they had locked tight. Together they struggled to open the jaws to no avail. Jean-Luc could see that Beverly was having trouble coping with the pain, so he encouraged her to lie down while he continued to work on the jaws. When, after ten minutes of fruitless trying he had failed to get them open, Jean-Luc reached into his pocket and withdrew his phaser. Beverly knew what he was going to do and shuddered, saying brokenly, “For God’s sake, be careful.” He nodded silently as he adjusted the setting on the weapon. Instead of the normal setting, he was narrowing the beam and increasing the power, giving him a cutting implement. To gain better access, he gently rolled Beverly onto her side, the carcase he manoeuvred into a more amenable position. Then, also laying, Jean-Luc carefully cut the lower jaw from the creature. It still remained in place, necessitating a grisly wriggling to get it to release. There was a sucking sound and Beverly moaned as the teeth slid from her flesh. Blood flowed freely from the tears and punctures and Jean-Luc lifted the remains of the head, revealing more damage. Getting to his feet, Jean-Luc dragged the carcase to one side, then vaporised it. When he turned back to Beverly, she was wincing as she inspected her wounds. Jean-Luc knelt beside her and took off his shirt. Offering a smile of thanks, Beverly took the shirt and wiped away some of the blood as she continued her assessment. Jean-Luc waited patiently, marvelling at how calm she was in the face of her pain. After some time, Jean-Luc asked tentatively, “How is it?” Beverly lifted her head and her frown disappeared as soon as their eyes met. “Nothing I can’t fix.” Relieved by her words, Jean-Luc stood and held out his hand, “Can you walk?” Beverly slowly got to her feet and shook her head. “I’m afraid not.” “Then sit back down while I find you a stick.” Jean-Luc assisted Beverly to sit, then cast about, looking for an appropriate fallen branch he could fashion into a usable crutch. With so much tree litter he soon found what he was looking for. He used his hands to strip off the twigs and bark, then used the phaser to sculpt a Y shape in the thicker end, making sure it was smooth. He tested the stick with his own weight and, satisfied, took it back to the waiting Doctor. She had tied Jean-Luc’s shirt around her wounds, but he could see blood seeping through the material. He helped Beverly to her feet again and got her to place her arm over his shoulders. With his arm around her waist, Beverly positioned the crutch and they slowly began their journey back to the tent. It took just over two hours and they were very hot and tired when they were finally able to stop. Jean-Luc eased Beverly into a chair, then raised her leg and propped her foot on the other chair. While Beverly took off the makeshift bandage, Jean-Luc retrieved the med kit, then he stood by her foot, ready to help if need be, though he doubted Beverly would require any assistance. Now there was nothing he could do but watch as Beverly set about healing her injuries. Fortunately the creature’s teeth weren’t as long as its claws, so the punctures weren’t too deep, but the lacerations were nasty, though not as deep as Jean-Luc’s had been. Fifteen minutes after she had begun, Beverly wiped the last of the blood away and smiled. “All done.” Jean-Luc gently ran his fingers over the newly healed skin and sighed. His face fell and he lowered his head. Beverly frowned and bent to see under his brow. Gently she asked, “Jean-Luc? Are you all right?” He nodded, but Beverly was unconvinced. She took his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay, Jean-Luc...I’m fine.” When he raised his eyes to look at her, Beverly was shocked to see him so stricken. She was about to try and comfort him when he spoke, his voice deep and rough. “I don’t ever want to see you in pain again, Beverly.” She attempted to lighten the mood. “Oh, I agree wholeheartedly! And that goes for you too, Jean-Luc. Hey, I know! Make it a standing order. No pain for senior officers.” He had to smile, it was so ridiculous. With a rueful shake of his head he said softly, “What am I going to do with you?” Beverly removed her foot from the chair and stood. Jean-Luc watched as she slowly undid his shorts. She reached inside his underwear and gently squeezed his penis. When nothing happened, Beverly frowned and looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Jean-Luc sighed and placed his hands on Beverly’s shoulders. “Are you sure you’re up to it?” Letting out a soft snort, Beverly squeezed him again while saying carefully, “Jean-Luc, I’m fine!” Then she lowered her voice and intensified her gaze. “I want you.” He began to harden in her hand. She smiled lasciviously and licked her lips. “Now that’s the Jean-Luc I know and love.” Despite his growing arousal, Jean-Luc had to laugh. He took Beverly’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply then said huskily, “You show a marked lack of respect for my rank, Doctor.” Batting her eyes dramatically, Beverly said coquettishly, “Oh, I am sorry, Captain. Am I to be punished?” Jean-Luc looked down at Beverly’s hand as it continued to stimulate him, then brought his gaze back up to her eyes. His face was expressionless, but in his eyes, Beverly saw both love and a hint of amusement. His voice, though, carried the unmistakable ring of authority. “Indeed you are, Doctor. I will not tolerate insubordination.” She barely kept the grin of delight from her face. “Oh my! What are you going to do?” He grabbed her breasts and gently pinched her nipples, his arousal increasing as she flushed and gasped. The game was fun, but his need was growing to insurmountable heights. In a deep rumble he declared, “I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” His vulgar words made Beverly moan wantonly. Jean-Luc took hold of Beverly’s shirt and ripped it from her body. She was braless and, as Jean-Luc pushed her gently to the floor, he attacked her breasts with his mouth. Over the next forty minutes they made love urgently; almost violently until, sweat soaked and covered in blood from scratches and bites, they came with a roar of liberation and Jean-Luc had his way, Beverly screamed. Utterly spent and still tangled together they slipped into a dreamless sleep. Their other encounter with the savage animals was far less damaging. They had been swimming and were walking towards the stream to wash when one of the creatures emerged from the dunes and blocked their path. They were carrying their clothes and each had a phaser in their hands, but refrained from using them immediately. Instead they watched cautiously as the animal sniffed and growled, but made no move to attack them. Eventually it ignored them and went to the stream to drink. Jean-Luc and Beverly waited for several minutes after it had gone before they ventured into the stream. The walk back to the tent was a tense one, but they saw nothing of that animal or any others. Ten days after they’d settled into their new surroundings they woke to the sound of heavy rain. It was hot and very humid, making staying in bed uncomfortable. Both dressed in nothing but their underwear they went outside after breakfast and, carrying their phasers, walked in the drenching rain to the beach. The oppressive conditions had flattened the surf, so they wandered along the shore, idly picking up shells and other curious objects. Jean-Luc had his communicator clipped to his briefs, something that had greatly amused Beverly. It had been silent for days, but, as they strolled, it suddenly came to life. In whispered tones, a voice said. “Yerok, are you there?” There was a gap of several seconds before a cautious voice replied, “What are you doing using the communicators? You know what he’ll do if we’re caught.” “Of course I know! Do take me for a fool?” The response was conciliatory. “Not at all, you know that. Now what is it? Why are you taking such a risk?” “I’ve been talking to the others...we think it’s time you took over.” There was another, longer pause. “You realise, of course, that means you have to get rid of him.” “Yes.” “And that we don’t have the access to the codes to bring the ship?” The voice grew cold. “I’m sure we can get that out of him.” Yerok’s voice was laced with scorn. “Fool! You won’t get anything from him...he is a master.” There was a hint of desperation in the disembodied voice. “Then what do we do? You saw what he did! We will be next once he has the damned object!” “Be patient! Wait and see what happens. There will be time to make a move.” The voice was disgruntled, but accepting nonetheless. “Very well, Yerok. We will wait.” “Good. Now stay off the communicators.” “Understood, Muros out.” Jean-Luc stood still, a deep frown marring his handsome face. Beverly looked out to sea, then back at her lover. “There seems to be some kind of trouble.” He snorted softly. “Yes, and that could mean trouble for us.” “Why?” Beverly asked. “Because they might spread to the other islands, including ours.” “You mean if they can’t get access to their ship?” Jean-Luc nodded. “Uh huh.” Nibbling her nails, Beverly’s eyes swept the dunes. “Is there anything we can do?” He shook his head. “Not really, except to keep monitoring them. Our last resort will be to beam up to the Calypso, but I feel that would show our hand.” Beverly nodded thoughtfully. “Although, if they don’t have access to their ship, we would be able to escape.” “True, but with patrols taking place, I really don’t want to take the risk. Neither the Calypso nor the shuttle are well armed. Our only hope would be to outrun any ship we encountered.” Beverly hummed in thought. “Hmm, I guess you’re right, but we’re so exposed here. What about another island, one with caves or some other kind of natural defensive formations?” Jean-Luc shook his head, making Beverly grimace. “No, there’s nothing, I checked before we left. Besides I don’t want to use the transporter, they might pick up the energy surge.” Placing her hands on her hips, Beverly shook her hair back. “Okay, so we just have to keep alert. You set the proximity alarms?” With a nod, Jean-Luc said, “And the tricorder is set to let me know if any ship scans, or tries to approach the yacht.” Beverly sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “But it’s still pot luck.” “Yes.” Ever the optimist, Beverly refused to be cowed. “Right, sobeit. Come on, Jean-Luc; let’s see if we can catch a fish.” They had noticed decent size fish swimming in the shallows and had discussed trying to nab one. Jean-Luc smiled at his lover. Obviously now was the time. Hand in hand they walked into knee deep water, then separated and spent a hilarious hour trying, and failing, to catch the fast moving fish. Eventually Beverly tired of the game and called a halt to proceedings. Not ready to give up, Jean-Luc shook his head and was about to say something when a large fish swam right between his legs. With lithe grace he spun and dived in one fluid motion, his arms fully extended in front of him. One hand missed the fish, but the other grabbed it just behind its dorsal fin. A wicked spine shot up, piercing Jean-Luc right through his palm. He reacted instantly, heaving himself from the water, his hand held up; the fish writhing in the air. Beverly clapped and laughed, delighted with his efforts, that was until she saw his face and heard his yell of pain. It was difficult to run in the water, but she made it to him quickly. He was kneeling, holding his wrist tightly as the movements of the struggling fish jerked his hand around. Beverly reached for the fish, intending to pull it off his hand, but he shouted, “No! Don’t touch it...look at the spines.” Peering in the driving rain, Beverly’s eyes widened as she saw the fish was covered in spines. There was no way she could touch it without being spiked. As Beverly was trying to think of a way to get the fish off Jean-Luc’s hand, he suddenly let go of his wrist and flicked his hand violently. He found success. The fish flew through the air, landing in the flat water with a loud slap. It quickly disappeared, leaving Jean-Luc gripping his wrist again, bent over in pain. Beverly took his hand and inspected it, noting it had already begun to redden and swell. There was a small ragged wound on each side of his palm, though there was very little blood. Jean-Luc had begun to pant, making Beverly say in a business-like fashion, “Come on, we’ve got to get you back to the tent.” He nodded jerkily and got to his feet. With Beverly’s help they soon made it to their shelter where Beverly ran her medical tricorder over his hand. What she found made her furrow her brow with worry. “You’ve been injected with venom, Jean-Luc.” Sweat was trickling down his head and body as Beverly turned his hand over. She was dismayed to see lines of red beginning to creep up his inner arm. “The venom is travelling. I’m going to put a tight bandage around your upper arm. If I can limit the amount of venom that enters your body, I might be able to treat it.” Beverly retrieved a clean shirt and ripped it into strips. While she strapped Jean-Luc’s upper arm, he began to tremble. His voice was hoarse when he gasped. “Oh, God...it hurts, Beverly.” Her hands worked as she said with pathos, “I know, my love. I’ll try to do something about it just as soon as I can.” It seemed to Jean-Luc that the bandaging took an age. With every passing moment the pain grew insidiously. His eyes were closed when Beverly left him, and he only half listened as she moved about the tent, but he soon recognised the sound of the camp heater. Beverly’s voice was soft, yet he clearly heard her worry as she said, “Centuries ago, scientists found that hot water was very useful in relieving the pain of marine stings. I’m going to try that.” Jean-Luc opened his eyes and gaped. “You have nothing else?” He managed. Shaking her head, Beverly tried to keep the desperation from her voice. “No, my love, I don’t. The tricorder couldn’t identify what sort of venom it was and I have no counter measures with me. I don’t know what I’m dealing with, Jean-Luc and under those circumstances I want to take a conservative approach. Anything other than that could cause you more harm than good.” Jean-Luc’s eyes showed his desperation. He shook his head, trying to make sense of what he’d been told, but all he could think about was the growing pain. “But, Beverly...” He rasped. “The pain...I can’t...I...” Beverly understood, but there was little she could do. The water she was heating began to wisp steam, so she took the container off the heat and tested it with her fingers. Satisfied, she turned to Jean-Luc and said gently, “I know this is hard, Jean-Luc, but you must trust me. Put your hand in the water. It’s hot, but not hot enough to burn you.” The trust between them was implicit so Jean-Luc didn’t hesitate. He slowly submerged his throbbing hand into the water, wincing as he did so. His face was screwed up in pain and he barely heard Beverly when she asked urgently, “Well? Is it helping?” He shook his head as tears filled his eyes. Beverly’s heart wrenched as she gently gripped his wrist. “Give it more time.” In the end he kept his hand in the water until it cooled, but the pain only increased. When Beverly lifted his hand from the container she gasped at seeing how badly swollen it was. Despite the skin being wrinkled by immersion, the hand was red and mottled and terribly hot. Inspection of the wounds showed a muddy discharge and the red lines had grown up his arm. Beverly already knew the situation was bad, however it had just become deadly. Two weeks has passed since Benar had brutally murdered Hessin. In the heat of the tropical sun, her body soon began to putrefy. It swelled and insects invaded her orifices. Benar ignored it, though if he were asked, he wouldn’t be able to explain why he kept it. He had heard some mumbled complaints about the smell, but that too was ignored. To Benar, nothing, absolutely nothing was important except finding the object. So desperate was he that he had begun to work alongside his crew. In his obsessive state he didn’t see the looks of hatred, or hear the murmured groundswell of discontent. He was so focussed he almost paid the ultimate price. While kneeling in his trench, completely absorbed in his work, Benar failed to see the man approach from behind. At the very last moment, Benar saw his shadow and turned, just in time to deflect a savage blow to his head. Utilising many years of training, Benar soon overcame his would-be assassin and stood with his booted foot across the man’s throat. He glanced around the dig to see the others watching intently. As usual, Yerok had prevented them from helping the assassin. With deliberate sloth, Benar bent and picked up a rock as big as a football. He stared down at the struggling man his expression one of anticipation. He said nothing as he raised the rock above his head and brought it down on the man’s head. The first blow rendered him unconscious, but Cardassians have hard skulls. The second blow tore the flesh off his forehead, but it was the third blow that was the most devastating. The skull burst open, the man’s brains splattering over Benar’s boots. Having made his point, Benar dropped the rock and casually wiped the dust and grit from his hands before saying mildly, “I am going back to my tent for a short while. When I return, that...” He pointed at the body without looking at it, “Will be gone.” In complete silence he strode to his tent, a cloud of insects taking flight as the door opened. Yerok looked at his crew and noted the hatred in their eyes as they followed Benar to his tent. He sighed and shook his head. Everything was unravelling, discipline was gone and what was once a cohesive well trained force was now a disagreeable, mutinous mob. He knew he had to instil some kind of purpose in his men. If not the discovery of the object, then something else. But now was not the time. No, he had to be patient, to bide his time until he was ready to act. The trouble was there may not be anyone left. He sighed again and, by way of an example, went back to work. It took some time, but one-by-one, his men did the same. In Benar’s trench, the bloody brains dried in the sun. The following morning, as the Cardassians worked, four people, three men and a woman kept glancing nervously at each other. Ever vigilant, Yerok noticed this and quickly realised something was going to happen. Slowly and carefully, so as not to arouse suspicion, he moved away from the main area of the dig seeming to work, but all the while watching as matters unfolded. Benar was in his trench, totally absorbed. The four slowly began to move, spreading out and surrounding Benar. For ten minutes they were content to do nothing but work, though as their hands dug, their eyes were set on Benar. At a silent signal they began to slowly move inwards. Yerok watched as the other crew members lifted their heads to take quick glances. The tension grew to unbearable levels; the only one oblivious was Benar. When the four were only a metre away they stood. Their leader, a middle aged man with a scar twisting his lower lip said quietly, “Now.” They moved as one, jumping into Benar’s trench. With nothing but their trowels, the four attacked the Commander with vicious blows, stabbing him repeatedly in the back. Incredibly Benar got to his feet, swinging his own tool. The woman was sliced across her mouth, the hideous wound gaping as she gurgled a scream while her riven head fell open. The leader plunged his trowel into Benar’s stomach but it had no effect, the Commander merely grunted and brought his sharp trowel up in a deadly arc to cut the man’s neck so badly, it almost decapitated him. Dust obscured the fight from the watching men and women, but they clearly heard the cries of the dying. Unfortunately, Benar wasn’t one of them. Faced with the two remaining assailants, Benar smiled and beckoned them to continue. Had they attacked together, they might have stood a chance, but they made the fatal error of attacking one at a time. The first lunged forward, aiming for Benar’s face, but the burly Commander parried the thrust and stabbed the man right through his heart. He fell at Benar’s feet, dead before he’d hit the ground. The last man wet himself as he stood panting in front of Benar. He knew his Commander would never let him leave the trench alive; his only hope was to kill the man. Letting out a cry of fear and desperation, he slashed backwards and forwards, emboldened when he felt his trowel meet and cut Benar’s flesh. But he became over confident. Stepping too close, his trowel was suddenly struck from his hand and a strong sinewy arm wrapped around his throat. In a reflex action, the man hooked his fingers over the arm and tried to pry it loose, while straining to lift his head to breathe. Benar growled softly and smiled. With slow ease he slipped his trowel between his arm and the man’s chin. The unfortunate man immediately understood what was about to happen and redoubled his efforts to free himself. Benar merely tightened his arm. Eyes bulging and blood seeping through his gritted teeth, the man’s legs kicked and scrabbled. There was no expression on Benar’s face as he felt the blade of his trowel touch the man’s throat. He pressed it until blood appeared, then with shocking calmness, began to saw the tool back and forth across the convulsing muscles. The man made hideous sounds as Benar slowly and calmly cut his head off. The body twitched and spasmed when he dropped it, blood squirting from the stub of neck until the heart stopped beating. The Commander straightened, sweat trickling into his eyes. He wiped a bloodied hand across his face and slowly turned. When he died, there was a look of disbelief and shock on his face. Yerok’s hand was firm on the trowel handle as he pushed it further into Benar’s head. He’d struck the Commander under his chin, driving the blade up through his head with such force that it burst through the top of his skull, coated in brains. Benar’s mouth opened but no sound emerged. With his eyes open and staring he remained upright only until Yerok released his hold of the trowel. Benar crumpled to the ground as if his strings had been cut. It was over, the crew were free. In stunned silence they left their work areas and wandered over to Benar’s trench. Already the insects were gathering over the bodies. One of the men opened his trousers, took his penis out and urinated over Benar’s body. Yerok looked at his hand and, seeing it was covered in Benar’s blood, wiped it diffidently on his pants. A woman spoke, her voice loud in the otherwise silent dig. “What do we do now?” Yerok glanced up to see all eight people looking at him. “We bury this...mess...then look for food.” Another voice spoke up. “What about the ship?” The elderly man shook his head. “Forget about the ship, the codes necessary to bring it were lost when Benar died.” The same voice asked in anger, “So we’re stranded here?” It was unpalatable, but unavoidable. Yerok nodded, however he did have some hope to give what were now his crew. “There will be patrols; we just have to be patient.” A ripple of murmurs swept through the gathered people. It was the woman who spoke again. “Not many, Yerok and not often. What do we do in the meantime?” Yerok knew he had reached the crisis point. If he was going to succeed, it all hinged on what he said next. He chose his words carefully. “I think we should continue to look for the object.” There were cries of protest, only subdued when Yerok held up his hand. “Think about it. If it really does exist, and we find it, that puts us in a very desirable position. We’d be welcomed back into Cardassian society, no more outcasts, no more homelessness, we would be feted as the new saviours. Nothing would be denied us...and Cardassia would be great again.” Yerok waited while the gathering digested that, then said evenly, “And it wouldn’t be like it was, not like Benar did it. We would only dig in the cool of the day and have plenty of rest...and food. I’m sure we can find enough to adequately sustain us, after all, there’re only nine of us.” The group were beginning to warm to the idea. The woman asked cautiously, “And what if we find it...what then?” Yerok smiled, he had already dreamed of this. “We wait until we’re contacted by a passing patrol. They will run scans of the planet, we’ll be detected and we have our communicators. They will take us back to Cardassia where we will be installed as the new joint leaders. As I said before, we just have to be patient.” Yerok watched carefully as the members of the group looked at each other. When he felt the time was right, he said with authority, “Are you with me?” Slowly the nods of agreement became more enthusiastic. Yerok glowed with satisfaction. Yes, it was all going according to plan. Only he knew that he, and he alone would survive to reap the wind. Throughout the rest of the long day and right through the equally long night, Jean-Luc had suffered horribly. By dawn he was semi conscious and experiencing bouts of delirium. Beverly had not slept. She had spent her time bathing the sweating man with cold water, the heat emanating from his body enough to make her open the tent door to cool the interior. Frustrated by her inability to help, Beverly could do nothing but hold Jean-Luc down as he thrashed and convulsed. The red lines on his arm were now up to his armpit. His hand was so grossly swollen it had split in places and now oozed blood and serum. The fingernails had turned black and were beginning to lift off their beds. During a time when Jean-Luc was calm, Beverly allowed herself to quietly weep. She jumped when she heard him whisper. She had to strain to hear him. “Hide it.” Thinking he was experiencing another bout of delirium, Beverly gently wiped some sweat from Jean-Luc’s brow and said softly, “Hide what, Jean-Luc?” She was startled again when he opened his eyes. They were unnaturally bright and glassy, the sclera bright red, but even so, Beverly could clearly see Jean-Luc was lucid. He repeated himself hoarsely. “Hide it.” Frowning and shaking her head, Beverly struggled to understand. “Hide what? What is it I must hide, Jean-Luc?” He swallowed painfully and tried to wet his lips. His tongue was swollen and split. Beverly dripped some water from her fingers and he smiled gratefully. Talking was obviously difficult, but he strove to continue. What he had to say was very important. “The Cardassian object. You must hide it, Beverly. No matter what happens, it must not fall into Cardassian hands.” Exhausted by his efforts, Jean-Luc closed his eyes and panted. With her mind racing, Beverly said urgently, “Where, Jean-Luc? Where shall I hide it?” He shook his head slowly, his strength waning quickly. “Wherever it is, you mustn’t tell me. But do it soon, my love, I don’t think we have much longer.” Beverly’s heart skipped several beats. Did he mean he thought he would die soon, or was it that the Cardassians were coming soon? Needing an answer, Beverly said quickly, “Jean-Luc? What do you mean?” Her words fell on deaf ears; Jean-Luc had lost consciousness again. “Dammit, Jean-Luc!” Beverly sat back, tears of aguish and desperation coursing down her cheeks. How did he expect her to leave him while she hid the fucking thing? And where would she hide it? The more she thought about it, the more she realised she had to do it immediately, Jean-Luc’s condition was only going to worsen and she wanted to be with him to help as best she could. She took her damp shirt and saturated it with water. She then wet Jean-Luc’s body, hoping it would cool him enough to last until she returned. She stood and looked down at her lover, fighting back tears. Clenching her jaw, she quickly retrieved the object and left the tent. Fifteen minutes after she’d left, Jean-Luc’s body contorted through a protracted convulsion. Alone he gurgled and vomited, bringing up nothing but dark green bile. He voided his bladder in a hot rush while his body continued to be wracked again and again. Lying semi conscious in his own filth he was unaware when an animal entered the tent, drawn by the stench of his rotting hand. Warily it approached the naked, helpless man, sniffing and making threatening growls. Jean-Luc heard nothing. Beverly’s efforts to cool him had been futile. Once again, waves of heat drifted from him, exciting the animal as it got closer. Cowering, it leaned forward and cautiously sniffed Jean-Luc’s swollen hand. It immediately pulled back and snarled menacingly. When there was no reaction from Jean-Luc, it became bolder. Ignoring his hand, the creature sniffed up his arm, occasionally licking his fevered skin until it got to his shoulder. Showing remarkably good balance, it stood on his hind legs and placed its front paws on Jean-Luc’s chest. Still not satisfied, it suddenly jumped onto Jean-Luc’s torso, then began to sniff with renewed interest around Jean-Luc’s open mouth. It licked at the bile covering his chin and neck before forcing its snout into Jean-Luc’s mouth. With his breathing obstructed, Jean-Luc coughed, making the creature growl dangerously and dig its claws into his flesh. It had taken Jean-Luc’s tongue in its teeth when Beverly walked into the tent. Shocked by what confronted her, she momentarily froze. The animal, unwilling to give up its prize, stayed exactly where it was, its snout still in Jean-Luc’s mouth, but its eyes were on Beverly as it growled gutturally. Years of training kicked in and Beverly dropped into a defensive firing position with the phaser steadily aimed. However, with the knowledge of what had happened before, she held her fire. Slowly, she straightened, warily watching the motionless creature. The growling increased, but, other that the claws digging deeper, it didn’t move. Not knowing quite what to do, Beverly waved her arms experimentally and shouted, “Hey! Get out of here!” The growling grew and stiff hairs rose along its back. Beverly had to get it to take its snout out of Jean-Luc’s mouth before she could kill it. Putting herself at great risk, she ran the few short steps to the animal and kicked it. Her actions had the desired effect. Enraged, the creature withdrew its snout and launched itself off Jean-Luc, straight at Beverly’s face. Her arms came up defensively and she successfully warded off the attack. The animal didn’t have a chance to make a second. As it crouched ready to spring again, Beverly shot it in the head. There was a thump as the headless body hit the floor of the tent, the air was acrid with the smell of burnt flesh and hair. Beverly dropped the phaser and knelt beside Jean-Luc, the relief she felt on seeing his intact tongue making her feel light headed. “Thank the Gods.” She whispered. She spent the next half an hour bathing Jean-Luc in an unsuccessful attempt to bring his body temperature down. The sun was rising higher in the sky and, although it was raining, Beverly knew it was going to get very hot in the tent. Somehow she had to cool him down. It was a forlorn and desperate woman who sat beside her lover, wishing she knew how to pray. By eleven o’clock it became so stifling in the tent, Beverly knew she had to get Jean-Luc out and somehow cool him down. He continued to regularly convulse, bringing up what little water she’d been able to get him to drink and his hand, though no further swollen, was losing its covering of skin. Having made her decision as to where to take Jean-Luc, Beverly used the blanket he was lying on as a sled. She gripped the corners and pulled, the blanket sliding across the tent floor quite easily. However, once she got outside it became significantly more difficult. What was normally a ten minute walk took over an hour. She tugged and dragged Jean-Luc all the way to the beach. Having slowly crested the dunes, it was a relief to slide the blanket and its passenger down through the grasses and sand. Instead of going straight into the water, Beverly cut the beach at an angle, heading for the stream and the shade of the boulders. Though her passage was easier on the sand, she was still exhausted when they finally reached the stream. Beverly didn’t take Jean-Luc off the blanket; she walked right into the cold water pulling the blanket with her. It was shallow where the water crossed the sand and the blanket quickly became very hard to pull. Jean-Luc’s weight stopped any further movement of the blanket across the wet sand, so Beverly let go and knelt beside her lover, scooping handfuls of water over him. It took time, but it worked. With half his body immersed and Beverly constantly wetting the other half, Jean-Luc’s temperature fell. Even the teeming rain helped. She still had trouble giving Jean-Luc water to drink, but she knew he was absorbing water through his submerged skin. It was late afternoon when Beverly realised there was no point in going back to the tent. As soon as she took Jean-Luc out of the water, his temperature would begin to rise. She gave the matter considerable thought and came to one inescapable conclusion. She would have to move their camp to the beach and that meant leaving Jean-Luc. She sighed and looked at her lover as he lay unconscious in the water. Despite his hand being an angry mottled red, the rest of him was very pale and his eyes were sunken. Beverly gently caressed his face, saying softly, “I’m sorry, my love, I have no choice.” She knew she couldn’t leave him in the water, so, having recovered her strength, she pulled the blanket onto dry sand and manoeuvred it between the boulders until she found a suitable place to leave him. The area was flat, in shade, above the high tide mark and big enough for the tent. Though reluctant to leave, Beverly steeled herself and placed a kiss on Jean-Luc’s cool brow. When she left, she didn’t look back. It was well into the night before Beverly had managed to manually transport all the equipment to the new site. Luckily the tent was self erecting so at least that was taken care of quickly. Jean-Luc was hot again, necessitating Beverly having to drag him on the blanket back to the creek. The air conditioner in the tent had ceased functioning some time ago, so Beverly had placed the tent so it would be open to the sea breezes. Once Jean-Luc’s temperature had fallen, Beverly moved him into the tent and left the door open. His convulsions had calmed, giving Beverly hope that he had begun to recover, but when she inspected his arm, she saw that the red lines had disappeared into the flesh of his armpit. The venom was now loose in his body. His hand, however, seemed to have reached its peak. It hadn’t deteriorated any further since midday, though the stench rising from it was nauseating. Very tired from her exertions, Beverly lay beside Jean-Luc. She didn’t intend to sleep, but, around three in the morning her eyes closed and sleep crept over her. A mere forty-five minutes later, Beverly was woken in fright by Jean-Luc screaming. She sat bolt-upright, momentarily disoriented, but Jean-Luc’s blood-curdling screams quickly reminded her of where she was. The Captain was thrashing, his body taut and covered in sweat. Beverly reached for him, meaning to offer comfort. In the darkness she didn’t see him swing his grotesque hand. It caught her on the side of her head, the blow softened as the hand burst. Blood, serum and pus spewed outward, splattering over Beverly’s face and shoulders. She gagged, the foul odour filling the tent despite the open door. Jean-Luc’s scream of terror changed to one of agony. Beverly didn’t need to see to know what had happened, but she groped for the light anyway. What she saw made her gasp in horror. Jean-Luc’s hand was now split open in five places. Gaping wounds oozed disgusting matter and, in the mottled flesh, Beverly could see the milky gleam of bones. “Oh my God, Jean-Luc.” He screamed again and Beverly griped his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. “Wake up!” She shook him again and his screams became moans. Although he didn’t regain consciousness, he slowly stopped thrashing, but he still felt the pain of his hand, even through his oblivion. Having failed at everything she’d tried to ease his pain, Beverly had an inspiration. Salt water. She was well aware of its healing and antiseptic properties; in fact she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. Picking up a container, Beverly bolted from the tent and, by the light of the stars, made her way into the waves and collected what she needed. Rushing back to the tent, she placed the container beside the now calm man and lifted his hand by his wrist. As she submerged the hand in the salt water, Jean-Luc moaned and weakly tried to remove it but Beverly tightened her grip and shook her head, saying mostly to herself, “I know it stings, Jean-Luc, but I think it will help. Be brave my love.” As she watched, the once crystal-clear water became muddy with the horrible matter seeping from Jean-Luc’s ruined hand. Throughout what was left of the night, and well into the next day, Beverly regularly changed the water until, finally, it remained clear. The swelling was greatly reduced and the flesh less mottled. The skin of Jean-Luc’s hand had sloughed off in the water along with what was left of his nails, but Beverly knew it was a good thing. Now, with the dead tissue gone, his hand had a chance to begin to heal. If only she could say that about the rest of him. His formerly pale skin had turned a sickly green and his temperature continued to climb. Beverly had won one battle, but the war raged on.


End file.
